


All Summer Long

by raeganrolland



Series: It's Called Love, Punks [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bottom Steve Rogers, F/M, Fights, Gay Bucky Barnes, M/M, Makeup Sex, Road Trips, Summer Love, Summer Vacation, Top Bucky Barnes, Top Steve Rogers, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 20:26:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30111552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raeganrolland/pseuds/raeganrolland
Summary: It’s been a crazy summer for Steve and Bucky. They’ve graduated high school, lost their virginities, and came out to their parents. Not to mention falling in love – with each other. With only a month left before they have to kiss their childhood goodbye and head off to college, the two of them take off on a road trip. Along the way they learn what it really means to be in a relationship with your best friend. It may not be easy, but it’s definitely always worth it.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff/Sam Wilson
Series: It's Called Love, Punks [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1404007
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

One week after Steve turned 16 and they both got their licenses, they drove out to Santa Monica. All by themselves. It was fucking awesome.

Which, okay. Santa Monica is only like an hour tops from where they live (if you get lucky trying to get through the gigantic parking lot they call Los Angeles) but still. They went alone. No fretting parents, no annoying older brothers. Just them – Steve and Bucky against the world. 

They let the dizzy rush of freedom get to their heads as they walked along the boardwalk, buzzed from funnel cakes topped with sugar. Bucky came up with the idea as they waited in line for the roller coaster. He’d clapped his hand down on Steve’s bony shoulder and squeezed, eyes bright and happy. 

“For your 18th birthday,” Bucky had said. “After we graduate. We’re gonna take a fucking epic road trip, dude. We’re going to scour this state.” 

“Sounds good to me,” Steve replied, licking the last remnants of powdered sugar from his thumb. “Now get on the ride, you pussy.”

They leave bright and early on a Monday morning, one day after Steve turns eighteen. They’re expecting some sort of fanfare from the parents, a chorus of be careful’s and call me when you get there’s, but all they really get is Winnie kicking them out when she finds Steve attempting to shove every single item of food that could qualify as a snack into his backpack.

“I’m a growing boy!” Steve shouts, and the sentiment is punctuated by the sharp ding of the toaster oven, signaling that his Toaster’s Strudel is ready. His foot gets caught in the strap of the backpack as he tries to make a break for it and he slams into the wall. Winnie and Bucky just roll their eyes as Steve rubs his shoulder and slinks into the kitchen.

“Get out of my house,” Winnie grumbles, pushing on Bucky’s shoulder. She’s yawning blearily and tripping over her long pajama pants. Bucky smiles as he hugs her. 

“We’ll call you,” Bucky says, and she nods as she pulls away. Bucky grabs Steve by the back of the shirt and heads for the front door, the taller boy almost tripping over his own feet in an attempt to grab his backpack and not drop his breakfast.

“Hey, don’t be a bitch to me just because you have a personal vendetta against mornings,” Steve says around a mouthful of strawberry filled strudel. “Bye Momma W!” 

The air is still chilly when they climb into Bucky’s Saturn (a graduation gift from his stupidly rich grandparents). Steve finishes his breakfast as Bucky pulls out of the driveway, licking sticky frosting from his fingers. Bucky doesn’t say a word until he pulls up to the drive-thru window of the nearest Starbucks and orders something ridiculously complicated. 

“You should have ordered your venti triple shot skinny vanilla latte with extra gay,” Steve says casually. “Because I know that’s how you like it.”  
Extra gay or not, the punch Bucky lands on Steve’s thigh fucking hurts.

Bucky pays an extravagant amount to fuel his addiction and relaxes back against the seat. The overly chipper barista tries to engage him in conversation and he just grunts, nowhere near awake enough to force conversation with a stranger. Especially a stranger hopped up on free espresso.

Steve scoffs and unbuckles his seatbelt, leaning over Bucky to stick his head out of the window. Bucky scowls and presses himself back against the seat. 

“Ignore him. He’s a bitch,” Steve says to her, and Bucky flicks his hip. “Jessie, right? You were in my Spanish class.”

“Yeah,” Jessie replies, a blush covering her cheeks. “Hi Steve. How’ve you been?”

“Great!” Steve replies, and Bucky gets a mouthful of hair as he awkwardly tries to take his change from Jessie. “It’s my birthday.”

Bucky scoffs. Steve’s birthday was yesterday, but it’s not unusual for him to try to stretch one day into an entire week. Or month. 

“Really?” Jessie exclaims. “Hold on!” She comes back a moment later and gives Steve a cookie. Steve gives her a heartbreaking grin and winks at her.

“Gorgeous and sweet,” Steve croons, and Bucky rolls his eyes.

Steve pretty much wrote the book on flirting. He’s been doing it since he’s been able to talk, and girls are no match for his sweet, dimpled grin and pretty, honest eyes. Steve’s flirting has gotten them free food. It’s gotten them into movies, concerts, and sporting events. Steve’s flirting is pretty much legendary. 

And he doesn’t bother stopping when Bucky is around. Not that he minds, really. 

He doesn’t.  
Steve attracts people like honey attracts bears. There’s just something about him, something so open and honest that people can’t help wanting to be around him. He has some sort of gregarious quality that Bucky could never dream of imitating, even if he wanted to. 

Jessie hands Steve the latte and Steve gives her a cheerful goodbye as he pulls himself back into the car. He sticks the straw into Bucky’s drink and hands it over. 

“Bye Steve,” Jessie says, giggling a little. “Come back any time.”

Steve’s flirting doesn’t bother him, not at all. He hides his annoyed scowl behind his coffee cup and blames it on the lack of caffeine and the early hour.

They drive in comfortable silence for a while, and Bucky’s latte is gone much sooner than he would have liked. Steve stares out of the windshield, one bored hand lifted to absently play with the hair at the base of Bucky’s neck. It’s grown out a little, fluttering in the breeze coming though the open window as he squints into the sun.

“Uh, you’re supposed to go north to the 101,” Steve says when Bucky merges onto I-5 south. Steve pulls his hand away and Bucky bites playfully at it. 

“We’re making a little detour,” Bucky says, grinning wide and happy. Steve furrows his brow. Bucky had been meticulous about the itinerary. 

“A detour to where?” Steve asks. 

“It’s a secret,” Bucky says. Steve juts out his lip, puppy eyes out in full force. Bucky rolls his eyes and smirks. “Now don’t pout, baby. We’ll be there soon enough.” 

“I hate surprises,” Steve mumbles, and Bucky chuckles. 

“You love surprises,” Bucky retorts. “Now just sit back and wait.” 

Soon enough Los Angeles is behind them, and the freeways above crisscross in a dizzy maze of hot black asphalt. There isn’t much to look at once the LA skyline is behind them; just billboards and outlet malls and brown, drying grass. 

Steve presses his face against the glass once they hit Anaheim, hoping to catch a peek of the tiptop of the Matterhorn at Disneyland, when suddenly Bucky merges to the right and takes the South Harbor Boulevard exit. Steve’s eyes widen and he whips his head around to look at Bucky, his gorgeous, awesome, perfect boyfriend who is apparently taking him to fucking Disneyland to kick off his birthday road trip.

“No,” Steve says in disbelief, his head snapping back and forth between Bucky’s exuberant face and the tops of the rides visible inside the walls of the happiest place on earth. “No way. Are you – you’re not – Bucky! Oh my god!”

“Calm down,” Bucky laughs as he navigates his way into the Mickey and Friends parking structure. He flushes beet red when Steve leans over to sloppily kiss his cheek at the same moment he’s handing cash to the parking attendant. Steve can’t stop from kissing him – wet, messy pecks on his cheek, temple, chin, neck, anything he can safely reach until Bucky parks the car. 

Once he puts the car in park, Steve flings his arms around Bucky and yanks him over the center console to hug him tightly, nearly taking out a rib in the process. “Thank you, thank you!” Steve shouts, his lips crashing down onto Bucky’s in an enthusiastic kiss. Bucky responds in kind, climbing fully over the console to pin Steve against the passenger seat as they kiss. 

“We gonna make out all day?” Bucky mumbles breathlessly against Steve’s lips. “Or are we gonna hit the fucking house of mouse?” 

“Let’s go!” Steve yells, nearly falling out of the car in his rush to get outside. Steve bounces around near the back of the car while Bucky gets their tickets out of the folder that holds all of the paperwork for their trip. He hides that, along with anything else that could get stolen, because happiest place on earth or not, Bucky is one paranoid motherfucker. 

Bucky meets him at the back of the car, one eyebrow raised and swollen lips tugged upwards in amusement. He hands Steve his printed out ticket and Steve’s eyes widen further as he reads. 

“Two day park hopper? Two days? Oh god.” He grabs Bucky’s hand, threading their fingers together as he all but drags him towards the front gate. 

“You’re so awesome. You’re so awesome that your awesomeness can’t be measured. Super awesome!” Steve shouts, earning a few curious glances from other patrons. 

“Okay!” Bucky calls, flushing red and chuckling nervously. Steve just grins at him, heart warming as Bucky smiles back, fond and private.  
Disneyland is sort of everything Bucky despises all jammed into one location – sweltering heat, long lines, strangers trying to engage you in conversation, screaming kids, ridiculous prices, large crowds, people in stupid costumes, cramped spaces, the Mickey Mouse ears with the elastic band that your stupid boyfriend makes you wear. The list goes on and on.

All of those things separately make Bucky sort of want to punch someone in the eye, but when they are all rolled into one to create the magical kingdom known as Disneyland, he doesn’t mind them all that much. That, and he’d happily take a day of torture to keep that glowing smile plastered across Steve’s exuberant face. 

Day one of Disney is almost over, night falling over the park. Bucky’s feet ache and he feels a little sick from three trips on Space Mountain in a row. It doesn’t seem to have affected Steve in any way, because he’s busy downing a churro like his life depends on it. 

“It’s almost time for fireworks,” Bucky says, voice edged with excitement. The fireworks are Bucky’s favorite part. And the thought of finally sitting the fuck down is overwhelmingly appealing. “Find a seat?”

Steve nods and licks cinnamon sugar from his fingers as they make their way into the sea of people crowded in front of the castle. They find a spot near the fence and settle in, shoulders brushing as they sit down on the warm pavement. 

“Can I take the ears off yet?” Bucky whines, scratching at the sweat damp hair above his ear. Steve turns to look at him, his own ears slightly askew on top of his unruly mop of hair. 

“Have we left Disneyland yet?” Steve inquires, raising an eyebrow. Bucky sighs and drops his head. 

“No,” he replies solemnly. Steve grins, reaching up to flick one of Bucky’s plastic mouse ears. 

“Well, there’s your answer,” Steve says. Bucky glares at him with little heat. Steve pulls out his digital camera, a graduation present, and starts going through all the pictures taken that day. Bucky leans over to get a better look. “Oh yeah. These are priceless.”

Bucky smiles and leans against the fence again, shivering slightly at the chill in the air. He hadn’t brought a jacket, because carrying one around in the heat all day just to be warm for the few chilly hours of night isn’t worth it. Steve, on the other hand, is a human furnace. Bucky’s pretty sure you could drop him down in the middle of Siberia and he’d still be fine in a tee shirt and flip-flops.

Steve looks over at him, brows bunched in concern. “Cold?” He asks, and Bucky shrugs. “C’mere,” Steve says then, spreading his thighs and patting the ground between them. Bucky’s cheeks pinken but he gets up, positioning himself between Steve’s legs. Steve hands Bucky the camera and wraps his arms around Bucky’s waist, pulling him flush against his body. Bucky just grins and leans back, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder. Steve kisses his temple and holds him even tighter. 

They get a few odd looks from people around them, but Bucky doesn’t care. He just turns his head and catches Steve’s lips in a soft kiss.

And that’s when the fireworks start.


	2. Chapter 2

On the third day of their road trip, they oversleep. Two sixteen-hour days of Disneyland took their toll on both of them. The pedometer on Bucky’s phone says they walked over twenty miles, and when he gets out of bed his feet throb in protest.

He starts throwing all their shit in a bag, getting dressed at warp speed because if they don’t check out in the next twenty-three minutes they’re going to get charged for another night. 

“Steve!” He calls, but the drooling lump that is his boyfriend merely lets out a soft snore and burrows deeper into the blankets. “Wake the fuck up!”

He runs into the bathroom to collect their toiletries, forever grateful that he showered the night before. He grabs his shoes from the corner of the bathroom and puts one on as he hops into the main room. Steve is still asleep. 

“Steve!” He calls again, throwing his other shoe at him. It hits the lump in the middle of the bed and a surprised cry escapes the blankets.

“What?” Steve cries, voice deep and rough enough to make heat spark in Bucky’s belly. But if Bucky doesn’t even have time to brush his fucking teeth, they definitely don’t have time for that. He wonders what it would take to warm Steve up to the idea of road head. 

Probably not much.

“We have like, fifteen minutes to check out,” Bucky shrieks, throwing Steve’s clothes at him and grabbing his shoe back. “Get up!”

“Fine!” Steve calls, rolling out of bed and standing up. “Ow,” he moans once he puts all his weight on his feet. He doesn’t have much to do except get dressed because Bucky already has their bags stacked by the door.

“You put these in the car,” Bucky says, tossing the keys at Steve, who just blinks blearily as they sail past him and hit the wall. Bucky just rolls his eyes and opens the door. “I’m going to check out.”

There’s a Starbucks across the street from the hotel lobby and Bucky jogs over for a much-needed fix after checking out, hoping that Steve actually managed to drag his ass out of the room.

The first official, non-surprise stop of their trip is a tiny town on the coast called Cayucos. Bucky found it while researching possible destinations. What caught his eye was how much of a destination it  isn’t . Cayucos is nestled between Morro Bay and Pismo Beach, and tourists seem to prefer those bustling towns to the quiet peace and harmony of Cayucos.

This trip is really important to Bucky. Not only is it for Steve’s eighteenth birthday, its sort of their last hoorah before college. He just wants some time alone with Steve before they’re caught up in the whirlwind that is sure to be their freshman year. 

They drive in near silence, tired and lazy after such a hectic jumpstart to their vacation. They stop for a late lunch in Ventura, dining on awesome burgers at a small restaurant on the pier.

Their first stop in Cayucos is a tiny vacation rental office tucked between a coffee shop and a used bookstore to pick up the keys for the condo they’re renting out. Cost wise, it wasn’t much more than a room at one of the tiny inns in town, and Bucky liked the idea of staying in a house with Steve, if only for three nights. 

The condo is literally on the beach, waves crashing onto the shore less than a hundred yards from the back door. The place is tiny, the door opening to a hallway and a staircase. Upstairs is the living room, and almost the entire wall facing the ocean is made of glass. It opens to a large balcony, equipped with patio furniture and a barbeque. Bucky drops his bag and goes out onto it immediately. 

“Shit, Stevie,” he breathes, taking in the breathtaking view. “Look at this.”

Steve follows him out onto the balcony, whistling at the view. The sandy beach seems to stretch on for miles, cliffs silhouetted in the distance. People dot the shore, soaking up the sun or dragging surfboards into the water. Bucky closes his eyes and takes a long, deep breath of the crisp ocean air.

“You approve?” Bucky asks, turning to face Steve. He tears his gaze away from the ocean to look at Bucky, a smile splitting his face.

“I definitely approve,” he replies. “This place is amazing, Buck.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, smiling as Steve slings an arm over his shoulders. He doesn’t have much planned for this stop. It just seemed like a nice place to stop and relax, to take a breath and have some time to themselves. 

That is what Bucky is most looking forward to on this trip – having Steve all to himself. At home there is always someone interrupting them, whether it be a parent, brother, or friend. Steve’s popularity follows them like a shadow. Someone is always demanding his time, wanting to see him again before heading off to college.

“What do you want to do?” Bucky asks, hooking his arm around Steve’s waist. “We could go exploring.”

“Exploring,” Steve says thoughtfully, sliding his hand down to rest at the small of Bucky’s back. “Can we start with the bedroom?” 

“Fuck yes,” Bucky grins, grabbing Steve’s hand and pulling him inside.

A king sized bed takes up most of the bedroom, and Bucky nearly sinks into the soft down comforter when Steve presses him into it. Bucky grins against Steve’s lips, hissing when Steve pushes his legs apart and lets himself fall between them, grinding against his hips. The pace they set is a lazy one, slow and warm as the hot summer sun filters in through the large bay windows. 

There’s no need to hurry. They have all the time in the world.

After a languorous sixty-nine session and a fuck that leaves Bucky trembling long after it’s over, they share a shower and set out to explore. They decide to tackle the row of shops on the waterfront first, making a note of all the places where they want to stop the next day.

Eventually they make their way to the beach, slipping out of their shoes. Bucky digs his toes into the squishy wet sand, watching fondly as Steve plays with a stray dog. He throws a piece of driftwood over and over, delighted as the dog continues to bring it back. Steve has always wanted a dog, but Evelyn is allergic so he was never allowed. 

When they get their first place, Bucky thinks, he’s getting Steve a puppy.

Eventually the dog runs off and they make their way down the pier, leaning against the railing at the end and watching as the sun sets. The sight of the deep orange sun dipping below the waves is beautiful, streaking the sky with pink and purple. 

The sunset makes Bucky feel maudlin and sentimental. He reaches out for Steve’s hand, but his fingers hit nothing but air. Bucky has no idea how long he was spacing out, staring at the darkening sky, because Steve isn’t next to him anymore. After a quick scan of the pier, he spots him a few yards away, talking animatedly with two girls. Bucky quirks an eyebrow and pushes away from the railing. 

He walks over to stand next to Steve, who gives him a quick nod and finishes a sentence about their condo. 

“This is Carol and Monica,” Steve says, gesturing towards the girls. “And this is Bucky.” 

Bucky smiles a little at them, and he waits for there to be more to the introduction. A title, maybe. But nothing comes. Bucky sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and wonders why this bothers him.

“Hi!” Monica says sweetly, smiling at him. Carol gives him a little wave. 

“Are you guys doing anything later?” Carol asks, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Bucky notices they all have their phones out, like they exchanged numbers. 

“Dinner, I think,” Steve says, and Bucky gives a jerky nod. The girls look at them expectantly, as if waiting for an invitation. When one doesn’t come, they just smile and shrug their shoulders a little. Carol has short blonde hair in a pixie cut style and calm, quiet eyes. Monica has a dark complexion and a happy demeanor, they are both beautiful Bucky thinks. 

“Well, there is going to be this kickass party on the beach tonight,” Monica says, pointing in the opposite direction of their condo. “Maybe you guys could come?” 

“Yeah, maybe,” Steve says, and Bucky slowly turns to look at him, mouth a little agape. “I’ll let you know.” 

“Great!” She replies, linking her arm with Carol’s. “We’ve gotta go get ready. So, call us! Bye guys!” 

“Bye,” Steve responds, and Bucky just nods again. The girls probably think he’s retarded. Steve watches them walk off and then turns to Bucky, grinning wide. His expression falters when he looks at Bucky. “What?’

“What was that?” Bucky asks, and Steve raises an eyebrow.

“They’re locals,” Steve replies, flicking his hair out of his eyes. “Figured they’d know what to do around here.”

“I wasn’t aware we were here to make friends,” Bucky says, hoping his tone comes off as casual. Steve rolls his eyes. 

“That’s because you hate people,” Steve replies, reaching out to punch Bucky’s shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong with making friends. Now come on. I’m fucking starving.”

Steve turns his back on the picturesque sunset and Bucky spares it one last glance, stuffing his hands in his pockets as they make their way up the pier. Bucky wants to feel his hand enveloped in Steve’s, but for some reason he doesn’t close the distance between them. 

By the time they make it back to their shoes, the sun has dipped completely under the horizon.

There are only a few restaurants within walking distance of the condo, and they decide on a cozy looking Italian place. It’s fancy and nice inside, but the other patrons are similarly dressed in tee shirts and shorts so Bucky doesn’t feel out of place.

Their waitress leads them to a table in the middle of the room, rather than one of the intimate booths along the back wall. They both turn to look at the booths, shoulders brushing. 

“I could give you a booth,” she says carefully. “If you’d like?”

“Here’s fine,” Steve shrugs, and flings himself into a chair. Bucky sits down across from him, picking up a fork and twirling it. He’s feeling fidgety. Steve reads the girl’s nametag and gives her a heartbreaking smile, flicking his hair out of his eyes. 

“Hey Angela,” he says to her, nodding in thanks as he takes his menu. “Tell me, what’s your specialty?” She colors a little, ducking her head and smiling. Fucking great. Steve’s gone and gotten himself another fan. Bucky buries his face in his menu to hide his scowl.

“Um,” she starts, clearing her throat a little. “We have a really amazing Chicken Florentine.”

“Sounds perfect. I’ll have that,” Steve says, not even opening his menu. Bucky scans over his menu quickly, trying to pick out something that looks edible in the three seconds Steve gave him to decide. 

“Shrimp Alfredo,” Bucky says, giving Angela a tight smile as he hands over his menu.

They don’t really talk about anything important during dinner, just rehashing Disneyland and Tony and Bruce’s party last weekend. Anytime Steve’s water glass dips below half full, Angela is there, giggling and flipping her hair. Steve flirts right back with her, and Bucky sucks his lips into his mouth. 

Fine, Steve’s flirting does bother him. He’s never said anything because it’s not a big deal, not in the long run. Steve is with him, not the Starbucks barista and not their waitress, but him. 

But he can’t take it much longer.

Bucky can feel his irritation boiling deep in the pit of his stomach, quickly turning into anger. He takes a deep breath and does his best to stamp it down. 

When it’s time for the bill, Angela hands it to Steve with a shy smile before turning to walk away. When Steve opens it, he lets out a soft bark of laughter and sets it down to retrieve his wallet out of his back pocket.

“What?” Bucky snaps, irritation coloring his tone. Steve doesn’t seem to notice. 

“She wrote down her number,” Steve chuckles, slipping his check card into the billfold. “Anyway, did you want to call the girls and see about that party?” 

Bucky feels his mouth fall open in disbelief. They’re on a vacation, on a fucking date for all intents and purposes, and Steve has spent the whole time flirting unabashedly with their waitress and planning parties with pretty girls in bikinis. 

Bucky knows what kind of person Steve is. He’s the most social guy on the planet, and a total flirt. It’s not like he expected Steve to change when they started dating. Hell, he doesn’t want Steve to change. But flirting with cute girls on the trip his boyfriend fucking spent months planning for his birthday while he sits right there is crossing the line. Bucky is pissed, angry in a way he never gets with Steve, and he bites down hard on his lip.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks, leaning towards him slightly. Bucky looks away, staring intently at the light fixture on the wall.

“Nothing,” Bucky says, too casual. Steve raises his eyebrows and then knits them together, concerned.

“Bullshit,” Steve says. “I know you. What’s going on?” 

“Nothing,” Bucky says again, but he’s caught in the lie. It’s impossible to hide anything from Steve. When Angela drops off the billfold, Steve barely glances as her. As soon as he takes his card and signs the receipt, Bucky stands up and heads for the door with Steve quick on his heels.

“Okay, seriously,” Steve says after a few tense and extremely awkward moments of silence as they walk the half a block back to the condo. “What’s going on?”

“Not a thing,” Bucky says as he hops up onto the porch and unlocks the door. He immediately goes upstairs to the living room. He doesn’t even want to look at Steve right now, he’s so angry. He tries to tell himself that fury is the only emotion he’s feeling, but the stinging behind his eyes tells him otherwise. 

“Will you please tell me?” Steve wheedles, and Bucky takes a deep breath. Counts backwards from ten. It doesn’t work. He whirls on Steve, and his eyes widen when he sees the expression on Bucky’s face.

“What am I to you, Steve?” Bucky asks suddenly, a hardened glare on his face. Steve lets out a tiny surprised noise and tilts his head to the side for a moment, brows knit together. 

“You’re my best friend,” Steve replies slowly. Bucky lets out a bitter laugh and Steve scowls. “What?” 

“Sometimes I don’t want to be your best friend,” Bucky says, fighting to keep his voice steady. “Sometimes I want to be your boyfriend.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Steve demands, throwing his arms out to the side. “You are my boyfriend.”

“Then act like it!” Bucky shouts. “I spent months planning this trip for your fucking birthday. You can mock me all you want but this trip was supposed to be for us. It was supposed to be, I don’t know, romantic! Sometimes I want that from you, Steve, and I don’t feel like I’m getting it.”

“What do you want from me, Buck?” Steve asks, his eyes suddenly flashing dark and angry. “Want me to pick you some pretty flowers, bring you chocolates, what?”

“Fuck you, Steve. Don’t be an asshole,” Bucky grits out, cheeks flushing red. “We’ve been here for four hours and you’ve gotten three different girls’ phone numbers. One during what could have been called a date. And not once did it fucking occur to you to maybe go ‘oh hey, by the way, this is my boyfriend’? You didn’t even think to let these girls know that you were taken, not even when I was fucking sitting there. So yeah, I’m a little pissed off.”

“You’re jealous?” Steve asks incredulously. Bucky lets out a scoff and looks away. “Look, I don’t know what you want from me, Bucky!” 

“I want you to act like we’re in a relationship even when you don’t have your dick in my ass, for starters!” As soon as he says it, Bucky wishes he could take it back. Especially when Steve recoils like he’s been slapped, eyes going wide and glassy. Bucky blinks back against the sudden swell of tears in his eyes, heart clenching when he takes a step forward and Steve takes one back. 

Steve opens his mouth to say something but snaps it shut. He clenches his jaw when his bottom lip starts to tremble and Bucky feels like he’s been kicked in the gut. Steve gives him one last look and turns, heading down the stairs without another word.

The slam of the front door is inexplicably loud and Bucky jumps at the sound of it.

Why the fuck did he say that? Never once has Steve treated him like that. Bucky presses his palms into his eye sockets and shakes his head, moving towards the stairs to follow Steve. Halfway down, the door opens again and Steve storms back in, his expression a heartbreaking mixture of anger and pain.

“Fuck this,” he says, his gaze landing hard on Bucky. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing this now.”

He storms back up the stairs and Bucky nearly trips as he tries to go up them backwards. Once they’re both on the landing their eyes lock, Steve’s reflecting the anguish Bucky is feeling.

“Is that what you think?” Steve asks, wincing when his voice cracks. “That I’m in this for the sex?”

“No,” Bucky says insistently, sucking in a deep breath. “Steve, I – shit. I don’t know why I said that. I didn’t mean it.”

“So is this how it’s going to be?” Steve asks, cheeks flushed red. “You’re just going to ignore something that’s bothering you until you blow the fuck up at me and say shit you don’t mean?” Bucky opens his mouth to answer but Steve cuts him off. “Because that’s not how it fucking works, Bucky. We’re supposed to talk to each other.”

“I know!” Bucky shouts back, his eyes burning. “I just get so sick of watching you flirt with everything that fucking moves! How the fuck is that supposed to make me feel?”

Steve stares at him for a moment, lips rolled into his mouth as he breathes deeply through his nose.

“Look,” Steve starts, his voice still startlingly loud. He runs his hand through his messy hair and looks Bucky right in the eye. “I don’t know what you want me to do with this insecure bullshit, Bucky. I started liking dick for you. I came out to my family for you. I don’t know what the fuck else to do to prove to you how fucking serious I am about us.” Steve pauses, his eyes rimmed red. His voice goes from angry and loud to desperate and broken. “I’m really fucking tired of you thinking I’m going to run off with the first girl that looks my way. I don’t want anybody else but you and I wish you would just fucking get that.”

Bucky squeezes his eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears threatening to slip from his eyes. He stumbles backwards and sits down on the sofa, looking up at Steve.

“I know, Steve,” he says, defeated. “I do know. I’m sorry.” He can’t handle looking at Steve so he looks to the side, towards the balcony, and bites his lip. “I’m sorry,” he says again, quieter. 

Steve sighs, scrubbing his hand over his face before he goes to stand in front of Bucky. He refuses to look at Steve. His bottom lip is trembling and he’s scared and he’s embarrassed for acting like such an idiot. His breath hitches as Steve places his hand on Bucky’s cheek, thumb stroking across his cheekbone.

“Buck,” Steve says softly, and Bucky forces himself to look at him. He no longer looks angry, just tired. “I’m sorry, too. I was being sort of a douche.”

“I overreacted,” Bucky counters, resisting the urge to reach up and place his hand over Steve’s. “I should have talked to you sooner, figured out a better way to say what I wanted to say.”

Steve drops his hand and moves forward to straddle Bucky’s lap, pressing his knees into the sofa on either side of Bucky’s thighs and sitting down. He grips the back of the sofa on either side of Bucky’s head, effectively caging him in. Thing is, he’s never felt more safe. 

Bucky sucks in a deep breath and looks up at Steve’s face. Steve leans in, pressing his lips to Bucky’s forehead in a soft kiss. Bucky locks his fingers together at the base of Steve’s spine and they stay like that for a moment, silent except for the sounds of their breathing. 

“I shouldn’t flirt like I do,” Steve says carefully, pulling back to look Bucky in the eye. “But most of the time, I don’t realize I’m doing it.” Bucky nods. He knows this. “You’ve got to understand something, Bucky. You’ve been my best friend for eighteen years. Everything else is still so new. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like anything has changed between us. You’re still my best friend. But then I get you alone, and you’ll look over at me and be so fucking gorgeous. And that’s when it hits me. You’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” Bucky responds immediately, swallowing thickly. Steve takes one of Bucky’s hands in his, threading their fingers together and squeezing. He leans forward to press his lips to Bucky’s temple.

“You know I love you, right?” Steve asks, a breathy whisper in Bucky’s ear. “More than anything.”

“I know,” Bucky replies, nodding frantically against Steve’s jaw. Tears prickle behind his eyes and he squeezes them shut. “I love you, too.”

They’re quiet for a moment, and Steve brings his free hand up to card through Bucky’s hair.

“It’s just so easy to remember how it felt,” Bucky says, rushed and quiet. “When I was in love with you and I thought I could never have you. It just hurt, Stevie.”

“But you’ve got me now,” Steve says, his lips skimming Bucky’s temple as he pulls away. “I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner,” he says, not for the first time. 

“I was scared,” Bucky replies, and Steve just makes a humming sound in the back of his throat. He presses another kiss to Bucky’s temple. 

“You still should have,” Steve continues, his breath hot against Bucky’s ear. “Because I think we’ve always been in love with each other. This was inevitable. We belong together, Buck.”

Bucky pulls back, reaching up to cup Steve’s cheek. He swipes his thumb across Steve’s lips and smiles. He pulls his thumb out of the way and presses his lips to Steve’s in a soft kiss. Steve responds in kind, digging his knees deeper into the sofa and wrapping his arms tight around Bucky’s neck. He coaxes Bucky’s mouth open with his tongue, licking his way inside. Bucky lets out a low moan and buries his hands in Steve’s shaggy hair. 

It’s not long before they’re making out, hot and heated, dicks hardening as they rock together. Bucky tugs Steve’s head back by his hair, making him gasp as he sinks his teeth into the soft tendon of his neck and licks over the sting. He pulls on the collar of Steve’s shirt, stretching it as he licks and sucks at his collarbone. 

Steve lets out a soft growl and grips the back of Bucky’s neck, fingernails digging in as he slides off of the couch and pulls Bucky with him. Bucky crawls on top of him once they’re laid out on the floor, pulling Steve’s shirt up and off. Miles of golden muscle bared for him, and he has no idea where to start. 

He leans over Steve, hips undulating against Steve’s thigh as he licks his way across Steve’s chest, stopping to tongue at his nipple, bite down on it. Steve hisses and arches up when Bucky sucks the hard nub into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth as he gets Steve’s pants open. 

Steve moans and flips them over, pinning Bucky to the floor with a giant hand on his chest as he kicks off his pants. Bucky arches up, spine curving as Steve leans down to mouth at his stomach. Red marks litter Bucky’s skin and Steve pulls his shirt up and pushes his pants down, leaving Bucky half naked and tangled in his own clothes. 

“Steve,” Bucky pants, flinging his clothes across the room. “Fuck me, Steve. Please.”

The room is dark except for the light of the full moon filtering in through the open balcony doors. The cool sea air makes Bucky shiver even with Steve’s body on top of him. Bucky wraps his legs tight around Steve’s waist, rolling his hips upward as he surges up to kiss at Steve’s swollen mouth. 

“Need you in me,” he breathes, punctuating the statement with a bite to Steve’s bottom lip. Steve pulls away and Bucky lets his head fall to the floor with a thud, hips jerking and chest heaving with every breath. He’s so hard he’s aching, desperate with the need to be filled. 

Steve paws through the jeans he was wearing earlier and extracts a small tube of lube. Bucky spreads his legs wide, planting his feet on the floor and tilting his hips up invitingly. Steve lets out a soft groan and coats his fingers with lube, not giving Bucky any warning before he slides one all the way in. Bucky keens, pushing back against Steve’s finger. His head feels too heavy to lift, but he manages it. Steve is watching him intently, biting down on his bottom lip as he sides in a second finger. Bucky barely notices the pinch, too busy moaning as Steve rubs insistently at his prostate. “Now, Steve, c’mon.”

“Shit. Condom,” Steve breathes, sliding a sticky hand up Bucky’s inner thigh after he pulls his fingers out. He moves to get up, and Bucky isn’t having any of it. Bucky reaches up to grab the back of Steve’s neck, arching up to kiss his lips. 

“Don’t need one,” Bucky pants, looking into Steve’s eyes. “Don’t want one. I wanna feel you.”

Steve’s eyes grow even darker, if possible. A faint sheen of sweat glows on his tan skin, and Bucky runs his free hand up Steve’s arm as he remains propped up over him. Steve finally nods, smiling and pressing a long kiss against Bucky’s plush lips. 

“Yeah, okay,” he says shakily, reaching down to coat his bare dick with lube. “Wrap your legs around me.”

Bucky wraps his legs tight around Steve’s slim waist, ankles crossed just above his ass. One hand stays tangled in Steve’s hair, and their eyes stay locked as Steve positions himself and pushes in. It hurts, not enough prep, and Bucky clenches his free hand in the carpet. But it passes quickly and then he can feel Steve, hot and sleek and bare inside of him. He can feel every ridge and contour of Steve’s cock, can feel the intense heat of it. It’s almost too powerful, enough to cause a telltale tingling behind his eyes but he doesn’t look away from Steve. He couldn’t even if he tried. 

“Buck,” Steve gasps, and Bucky moves his hand from Steve’s hair to his face, fingertips trembling as he strokes them across Steve’s cheek. He looks almost awed, his expression so reverent that Bucky blushes, even with Steve buried deep inside of him. “You’re so fucking perfect, Buck.”

Steve grins, so wide and happy that Bucky’s heart pounds even harder. He’s so in love that it’s fucking ridiculous and he doesn’t think this moment could get any better, but then Steve moves and stars explode behind his eyelids. 

Bucky lets out a long groan, squeezing his eyes shut as Steve finds a rhythm. He pulls almost all of the way out, letting the flared head of his cock stretch the rim of Bucky’s ass before he pushes back in hard, slow and powerful. 

Steve moves his hand from Bucky’s hip and grabs Bucky’s wrist, pinning his hand against the floor above Bucky’s head and tangling their fingers together. His other hand grips the back of Bucky’s neck, fingertips digging in as he presses their foreheads together. They’re so close that Bucky’s eyes cross trying to watch him but he doesn’t dare close them. He makes tiny hiccupping noises in the back of his throat; eyes burning as Steve kisses him so soft and eager, whispering praise as his hips snap forward. 

Bucky feels overwhelmed. Steve is filling him up, covering him, pinning him down – and he never wants it to stop. He never thought he could feel like this, alive and vibrant and whole, so happy he can barely contain it. 

Steve lets out a noise that sounds like a sob and buries his face in Bucky’s neck, kissing under his jaw. He wraps his hand around Bucky’s dick, stroking him in time with their thrusts. Bucky cries out and arches up, trembling as Steve’s fingers squeeze tighter on the back of his neck. 

It’s like every nerve in his body is strung taut and the pleasure dances on the edge of becoming too much. It licks up his spine like a flame, and when Steve bites down on his neck and squeezes his fingers, Bucky lets out a loud cry as his orgasm hits. His whole body shakes with it, vision whitening as he streaks his belly with come. 

Bucky forces his eyes open, pulling his hand out of Steve’s and putting both hands on Steve’s neck, thumbs skimming across his jaw. Bucky watches him, breathing shakily as aftershocks make his hips jerk. Steve grabs Bucky’s hips, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise as he tenses, pressing his forehead against Bucky’s as he comes. 

Bucky gasps at the feeling of Steve’s dick emptying inside of him, filling him up. His thighs are trembling as Steve collapses on top him, and he wraps his arms around Steve as he sucks in huge gulps of air. 

They’re quiet for awhile, Bucky stroking his hands over Steve’s sweaty back in undistinguishable patterns. Steve brings a hand up to rest on Bucky’s forehead, pinky lying across his brow and thumb stroking his temple. Steve hums softly, pressing a sloppy kiss to Bucky’s neck as he pulls out slowly. Bucky lets out a soft whimper at the loss, fingertips digging into Steve’s tan skin. 

The mess between them is bordering on uncomfortable, come cooling into a sticky mess between Bucky’s legs and their bodies, but Bucky relishes in it. Steve lifts his head to look at Bucky, a sleepy smile on his face. 

“That was awesome,” he says, and Bucky chuckles softly, reaching up to push Steve’s hair off of his forehead. 

“I think I have rug burn,” Bucky replies, shifting his shoulders and wrinkling his nose. 

“You’ll get over it,” Steve yawns, rolling off Bucky so they are lying shoulder to shoulder. He rubs at the drying come on his belly. “We should take a shower.”

“Fuck that,” Bucky replies, shifting his hips. “Too tired. You’re going to have to carry me to bed.”

“Carry your own fat ass to bed,” Steve teases. He leans over to press a quick kiss to Bucky’s shoulder and gets up. Bucky groans and slowly pulls himself up off of the floor. They walk down the stairs in silence, and Bucky collapses on top of the downy covers, already half asleep. He can hear Steve puttering around the bathroom and he starts a little when a warm, wet cloth touches his thighs. He rolls over, smiling fondly up at Steve as he cleans him up. Once he’s done, he tosses the washcloth in the general vicinity of the bathroom and crawls into bed, gathering Bucky up in his arms. 

“Make up sex is exhausting,” he says, nuzzling the soft skin behind Bucky’s ear as he presses his knees into the backs of Bucky’s. 

“Well, now we know,” Bucky sighs, pressing himself back against Steve, eyes slipping shut. “Why am I always the little spoon?”

“’Cause you’re the girl,” Steve mumbles, his breath hot on the back of Bucky’s neck. “Now go to sleep.” Bucky rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue. It feels too good having Steve wrapped all around him.

“Love you,” Bucky murmurs, because he feels like he should say it again after the night they’ve had. 

“Love you too, dorkface,” Steve replies. “Sleep.” 

And then, Bucky does.


	3. Chapter 3

Their second day in Cayucos is going much better than the first. They slept until noon, and Steve only woke up because Bucky teased him hard with his tongue and then sunk down on his bare cock before he was even fully coherent.

There are worse ways to wake up. 

They’re lounging on the beach, all spread out on towels. Steve tries not to look directly at Bucky, lest the urge to tackle him into the sand becomes irresistible. He’s got himself propped up on his elbows, head tipped back and neck exposed to the sun. His dark blue board shorts hang low enough on his tanned hips that Steve can clearly see the finger-shaped bruises that he left the night before. He’s got a hickey on his collarbone and a bite mark on his neck. He looks completely debauched and Steve is proud to say it’s all because of him. 

Steve, however, does not tan nearly as easily as Bucky does. So Bucky is on freckle watch, because Steve is a whiny bitch when he’s sunburned and Bucky would really like to continue to get laid again on this vacation. Especially now that they apparently aren’t using condoms anymore, and really, there aren’t even words to describe how that makes Bucky feel. 

“You’re getting pink,” Bucky says, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them. Steve lifts his head, eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. He sits up and turns his back to Bucky, and Bucky picks up the sunblock and rubs some between his hands. He presses a kiss to the spur of Steve’s shoulder, skin soft and warm, and then rubs the cream onto his shoulders and all over his back. He fits his fingers onto the batch of hickeys on his neck, digging in just enough to make Steve hiss. He smirks, and rubs his hands on his towel before handing the sunblock over. Steve rubs more onto his chest, stomach, and arms before dropping back onto the towel in a lazy lump. 

Steve hears someone shout his name, which is pretty surprising considering they’re in a secluded town hundreds of miles from home. He lifts his head, squinting against the sun in the general direction of the voice. Monica and Carol approach them, and it takes Steve a few seconds to even recognize them. Yesterday they had been in tiny shorts and bikini tops, hair and make-up perfect even in the salty breeze. Today they’re both in wetsuits; faces scrubbed clean and wet hair tumbling in tangled waves down their backs. They’re each carrying a surfboard, smiling wide. They look better this way, more natural.

Steve instinctively raises a hand in greeting, and then stiffens. He cautions a glance over at Bucky. His eyebrow is raised over the rim of his sunglasses, but he doesn’t seem to look annoyed. 

“Hey girls,” Steve says brightly, beaming up at the girls. “You guys remember my boyfriend Bucky?” 

Steve sneaks a glance over at Bucky. His cheeks are pink, but that could be from the sun.

“Hey,” Bucky says, giving them a cordial smile. 

“Of course,” Monica says. “It was so sweet of you to plan this trip for Steve’s birthday. You two are adorable, seriously. I hope you’re having fun.”

Steve winces at that. He had barely been able to stop himself from throwing that in Bucky’s face during their fight. Steve had told the girls he was taken, and rambled on about his awesome boyfriend right up until the moment said boyfriend walked over. 

If Bucky had started paying attention even a minute earlier, the entire fight might have been averted. Maybe it’s good that it happened. Their first fight is over and done with, and they’re stronger because of it. He had never felt closer to Bucky than he had last night.

“We’re having a great time,” Bucky says, but his brow is furrowed and he’s gnawing on his bottom lip, which is a sure sign he’s feeling guilty. Steve knocks his knee against Bucky’s and gives him a small smile, shrugging one shoulder. 

“Looks like it,” Carol chuckles, gesturing to the purple love bites on Steve’s chest. Steve just grins and winks at her. “We missed you at the party last night.”

“Uh, yeah,” Steve replies. “Something came up.”

“I bet,” Monica says, smirking. “Well, it’s raging on tonight, if you wanna stop by.” 

“Maybe,” Steve says noncommittally. The girls smile and hike their boards up on their hips.

“We’ve got some waves to catch,” Carol says, grinning broadly. The girls wave and turn to leave. Steve turns his head to look at Bucky but the other boy is getting up, lithe muscles bunching under greasy tan skin smattered with freckles from the sun. Steve is momentarily transfixed. 

“Hey Monica? Carol?” Bucky asks tentatively, and the girls turn to look at him with slightly surprised expressions on their faces. Justifiable, considering Bucky has pretty much been exclusively monosyllabic with them until recently. 

“What’s up, Bucky?” Monica asks, perky and sweet, and Bucky bites his lip. He looks at Steve and back to the girls, gesturing towards their boards.

“Do you think you could, uh, possibly teach me and Steve how to use those things?” Steve looks up at Bucky, grinning wide. Monica and Carol’s eyes widen like they’ve just won the lottery.

“You want to learn how to surf?” Carol asks, and Monica bounces up and down. “Sure thing, boys. Let’s hit the rental shop.”

Steve gets up and grabs their stuff, shaking sand out of the towels as they follow the girls towards the street. Steve bumps his shoulder against Bucky, eyebrow raised in question. Bucky colors slightly and shrugs, grabbing Steve’s hands. 

“There’s nothing wrong with making friends,” Bucky says, repeating Steve’s words from yesterday back at him. Steve’s heart beats a little harder and he smiles, because Bucky is beyond perfect. They’re both trying. It’s not something that can be fixed over night, Bucky’s insecurity or Steve’s flirting, but it’s a start. 

Steve leans in to press a soft kiss to Bucky’s lips, inhaling the scent of salt and coconut sunscreen. 

“Hurry up, boys!” Monica calls from the sidewalk. “We wanna see those cute little asses in wetsuits!”

Steve chuckles against Bucky’s lips, tangling their fingers together as they follow Monica and Carol.

Hours later, Steve collapses on the shore, exhausted and happy. His bright pink rented surfboard is at his side. Bucky falls onto the sand next to him, cheeks flushed with exertion, lips upturned in a genuine grin.

Carol and Monica are actually very knowledgeable and patient surfing instructors, even managing to get someone as clumsy as Steve to stand up on the board a time or two. But now, the waves have calmed to little more than gentle laps at the shore and their muscles ache. 

“You done good, kids,” Carol says cheekily, leaning over them and letting cold seawater drip on them from her hair. “See you tonight?” 

“Maybe,” Steve pants, getting up off of the ground and giving each girl a brief hug. Bucky does the same, even smiling when Monica plants a kiss on his cheek. 

“Later boys!” Carol calls out, and then they leave, surfboards under their arms. Steve looks back towards Bucky, stepping forward and placing his hands on Bucky’s wetsuit covered chest. 

“Did you have fun?” Steve asks, reaching behind Bucky and unzipping the suit. Bucky pulls his arms out and lets the top of the suit fall around his waist. His skin is pink from the cold, and Steve turns around so Bucky can get his zipper. 

“I really did, actually,” Bucky replies, carefully moving Steve’s hair out of the way as he pulls the zipper down. “I guess there are times not being an antisocial douchebag pays off.”

“Hey,” Steve retorts, slipping his arms out of the suit and turning around. He slips his arms around Bucky’s neck, bringing their cold chests together and burying his fingers in Bucky’s wet hair, not caring if anyone sees. “I fell in love with an antisocial douchebag. Don’t go changing.”

Bucky laughs, bright and happy, and it’s a beautiful sound. They share a quick kiss and then they grab the boards and head back towards the rental office. 

Later, Steve takes a shower while Bucky shoves their dirty clothes in the washer, and then Bucky hops in the shower while Steve checks his texts. His muscles ache in a good way, and he rolls his shoulders. 

Bucky comes out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, one towel wrapped haphazardly around his waist as he scrubs at his hair with another. Steve’s phone chirps at that moment, distracting him from the wicked glint of the water on Bucky’s bare torso. He slides his phone open, sees he has a new message from Lucy and opens it. 

_ u coming? _

“Did you want to check out the bonfire?” Bucky asks at that moment, like he’s psychic. He got an amazing tan, skin dark with new freckles from the sun. The towel dips low enough that Steve can see his tan line, the place where his skin goes from golden to milky white. He wants to trace the line with his tongue. That’s when he makes a snap decision. 

_ yeah, but not to the bonfire. ;) text u later. _

“Come here,” Steve commands, voice deep and husky. He sits on the edge of the bed, licking his lips in anticipation as Bucky walks over to him with a slightly confused look. 

“What are – oh.” He trails off, eyes going dark as Steve grabs his hips and tugs him forward until he is standing between Steve’s legs. Steve is eye level with Bucky’s navel, and he grabs the edges of the towel. He doesn’t pull it away, not yet, instead holds onto it as he leans in to kiss and lick at Bucky’s belly, bite at his hipbones, mouth at the tan line. Bucky’s breath comes faster, legs spreading of their own accord as he buries his fingers in Steve’s shower damp hair.

Steve slides one hand under the towel, letting his fingertips ghost along Bucky’s inner thigh, making him tremble. He pulls the towel away with one hand and cups Bucky’s balls in the other, rolling them in his palm as he buries his nose in the soft curls at the base of Bucky’s cock. Bucky lets out a little staccato moan, hips jerking almost imperceptibly as his hard cock brushes Steve’s cheek, smearing pre-come across his skin. 

Steve grins against Bucky’s belly, fingertip pressing at the smooth spot behind his balls. He fucking loves how little it takes to get Bucky hard and ready for him. He gets so desperate, so needy, and Steve feeds off it, always eager to give Bucky exactly what he craves. 

Steve knows he’s teasing, little kitten licks at the line where taut skin meets coarse hair, and Bucky rocks up on the balls of his feet, trying to get Steve where he wants him. Steve doesn’t comply, instead biting down softly just to hear Bucky gasp. 

Bucky places his hand on Steve’s cheek, the other still tangled in his hair. His thumb drags roughly across Steve’s mouth, tip catching on Steve’s bottom lip and pulling his mouth open. He pulls Steve’s head back by his hair and moves his hand away from Steve’s mouth to his dick, grasping it and painting Steve’s lips with the slick tip. Steve pants, opens his mouth wider and Bucky slides in without warning, hand cupping the back of Steve’s head to keep him in place as Bucky presses his cock against the back of Steve’s throat. 

He gags a little and drool slips down his chin, but Bucky doesn’t ease up. Steve flicks his eyes upwards, locking on Bucky’s. Bucky pushes a little further down Steve’s throat, palms Steve’s cheek and presses his thumb in to feel himself there. 

Steve’s chest aches with the need to breathe, and he can feel spit run down his chin, down Bucky’s cock to his hand where he’s still cupping his balls. Steve releases them and grips Bucky’s hips, nails digging in and creating scratches on top of the bruises left the night before. Bucky keeps his grip on the back of Steve’s head, not allowing him to pull away. 

He swallows reflexively and Bucky pushes further until he’s all the way in, Steve’s nose buried in his pubes, and Steve can’t breathe but he doesn’t care because it’s so fucking good. Bucky slides his hand down to Steve’s neck, wrapping his fingers around it and squeezing slightly. Just as colors start to burst in front of Steve’s eyes and his chest aches for the air he’s not getting, Bucky pulls out, letting his cock slip from Steve’s mouth with an obscene pop. 

Steve is silent for a half a second, and then he lets out a loud gasp as air fills his lungs again. He looks up at Bucky, eyes wide as he takes desperate gulps of air. Bucky looks slightly shocked, as if he’s surprised by what just happened. Just when he looks like he is about to say something, to apologize, Steve pulls him forward roughly and sucks his cock back into his mouth, making a moan spill from Bucky’s lips instead.

He sucks eagerly, sloppily; spit coating his chin and his hand where he has it wrapped around the base of Bucky’s cock. 

Steve pulls back again, a line of spit running from Steve’s swollen lips to the vivid red head of Bucky’s dick. 

“Love your fucking cock,” Steve says, momentarily surprised by how fucked out and raw his voice is. Bucky moans, trying to pull Steve’s mouth back onto him and Steve lets him, tonguing at the slit and letting his teeth catch, just barely, under the head. “Get on the bed. Want your ass, too. Wanna fuckin’ taste all of you.”

“Fuck,” Bucky swears, legs trembling like he forgot he was even standing. He falls back onto the bed and positions himself in the middle, legs spreading automatically. Steve kicks off his lounge pants, the only article of clothing he was wearing, and makes himself at home between Bucky’s legs. He wraps one hand around Bucky’s cock and engulfs him again, the other hand sliding up Bucky’s chest before he shoves two fingers into Bucky’s mouth. 

He sucks on them with the same enthusiasm Steve is using to suck his cock, getting his fingers sloppy wet. He lets spit gather in his mouth as he bobs up and down on Bucky’s cock, and when he pulls his fingers away Bucky groans at the loss. 

He uses his free hand to push Bucky’s leg up and back, exposing that pink, perfect hole. It flutters in anticipation and Steve presses his mouth to it, letting spit leak out of his mouth as he stabs at Bucky’s hole with his tongue, forcing his way in before he latches his mouth around it and sucks. 

Bucky cries out, back coming off of the bed in an obscene arch. Steve moves back up, taking Bucky’s cock back in his mouth at the same moment he slides his two slick fingers inside. Bucky keens, palms slapping down onto the bed. 

“You like that, baby?” Steve asks, bottom lip catching on the shining head of Bucky’s dick. Bucky nods, skin flushed so beautifully. Steve grins, screwing his lips down over the head again as he starts to finger Bucky, rubbing against his prostate.

Bucky practically sobs, ass milking Steve’s fingers just like it would his cock. And fuck, Steve wants to be inside him, wants to come in his ass and lick it all back out. But he’s going to get Bucky off just like this first, going to make him come down Steve’s throat while he fucks himself down on Steve’s long fingers. 

He slides a third finger in, barely hesitating before he starts moving them in and out. Bucky’s hips jerk erratically and Steve resists the urge to rut against the bed, instead staying up on his knees, cock poking insistently at his belly. 

Steve takes Bucky’s cock all the way down his throat, just like before, and presses three fingertips against Bucky’s prostate. Bucky screams out, tenses, and then explodes inside Steve’s mouth. He’s still coming when Steve pulls off, swallowing what he can while the last few spurts coat his lips and chin. 

Bucky slumps against the bed, sweaty and boneless. Steve doesn’t give him time to recover, instead wiping the come from his face and spitting into his hand, smearing the obscene mixture on his bare cock before he positions himself. Bucky’s eyes snap open as Steve pushes in, sliding in quick until he bottoms out. 

Bucky is nice and slick from all the spit and Steve’s fingering, and he doesn’t even wait before he starts pounding into him, quick and relentless. Bucky’s fingers scrabble across Steve’s back, sweat stinging the fine scratches he leaves. 

Bucky’s eyes pool with tears, like it’s all just too much. He’s hard again against Steve’s belly, and Steve wraps his hand around Bucky’s sensitive cock and starts to tug. Tears roll down Bucky’s cheeks when he squeezes his eyes shut, hissing and arching up. Steve grins wickedly, his thumb rubbing the slit of Bucky’s cock hard, just how Bucky likes it. 

Bucky cries out over and over, praise, filth, and Steve’s name as he pounds into him so hard he slides up the bed. It’s not long before Steve is coming, spurting endlessly into Bucky as he shouts out loudly. 

Bucky moans, his cock still hard in Steve’s hand. Steve pulls out and slides down, still coming down from his own orgasm as he shoves his tongue into Bucky’s loose hole, licking and sucking his own come out of him. It’s filthy and messy, and he grins as Bucky lets out an endless stream of noise, sounding desperate and broken. 

Once Bucky is clean, he takes his cock back in his mouth, sucking hard on the head as he jacks the shaft. Bucky fucking screams, arching up off of the bed as he comes again in a matter of minutes, and Steve swallows it all greedily. 

When he finally collapses next to Bucky, panting and chest heaving, Bucky is trembling. He’s shaking all over, looking fucked out and dazed, cheeks shining with moisture. Steve rolls onto his side and swipes his thumb under Bucky’s eye.

“You okay?” He asks, and Bucky blinks, looking over at him like he’s gone fucking insane. He rolls over sluggishly, throwing an arm across Steve’s waist and tucking his leg between Steve’s knees.

“That was – fuck, Steve.” He presses his forehead against Steve’s and they grin, breath still coming quick and fast. “Number two on our list of all time greatest fucks.”

Bucky tucks his head underneath Steve’s chin, face buried in the sweaty expanse of his neck. Steve gathers him up in his arms, hand sliding down his back to rest casually on his ass. 

“What’s number one?” Steve asks, pressing a kiss to Bucky’s damp hair. His breathing evens out and he’s quiet for so long that Steve thinks he’s fallen asleep.

“Mm. The first time,” Bucky says sleepily, lips brushing against Steve’s neck. “Don’t laugh.”

“I wouldn’t,” Steve replies, voice suddenly thick. He cards his fingers through Bucky’s hair, eyes drooping shut as they fall asleep, all tangled together and sticky.

Something wakes Bucky up an undeterminable amount of time later. Nighttime has fallen completely, and Steve is snoring lightly against his chest. He smiles softly, pressing his lips against Steve’s shaggy hair.

That’s when the pounding starts again. Bucky furrows his brow, glancing in the general direction of the door. He slides out from underneath Steve and pulls on Steve’s sweatpants, running a hand through his hair as he walks towards the front door. 

He opens it to reveal Monica and Carol, once again made up and dressed in tiny shorts and tank tops. Their glassy eyes rake over him appreciatively, and he is suddenly incredibly aware of the bruises and scratches on his hips. Steve’s pants barely stay up on him, and he pulls the drawstring tighter.

“We’ve come to kidnap you!” Monica cries, bounding forward to engulf Bucky in a hug. Bucky starts a little, his hands resting on her curvy hips for a moment before she pulls away. 

“Yeah, you guys can fuck all day, everyday,” Carol adds, flicking her chestnut curls over one shoulder. “But you’re only here for three days. Come party with us!” 

“Okay,” Bucky laughs, surprising himself with how quickly he agrees. But he likes these girls. They’re fun. “Uh, Steve is asleep. Getting him up is like trying to wake the dead. Hold on.”

He turns to head back into the condo but the girls push past him, their shrieking laughter echoing through the dark hallway as they head for the bedroom.

Bucky shakes his head and follows them with a rueful grin. The girls flick on the light and dive-bomb the bed, laughing gleefully as they land on top of Steve. His eyes pop open and he lets out a decidedly feminine shriek, tangling in the covers as he rolls off of the bed and lands on the floor with a thunk and a groan. 

“Okay, girls!” Bucky shouts, clapping his hands together. “Eyes off the merchandise. Let us get dressed and we’ll meet you outside.”

The girls bounce out of the room as Steve gracelessly pulls himself back up onto the bed. He shoots Bucky a confused glare and Bucky laughs cheerfully, climbing onto the bed to soothe Steve’s pout with a soft kiss. 

“Our presence is required at the bonfire,” Bucky explains. “Apparently we have to fuck on our own time.”

“This is our own time,” Steve responds, kissing him back. “You wanna go?” 

“For a little while,” Bucky says, sliding his hand up Steve’s bare chest. “Then I wanna come back and suck your cock, let you fuck my pretty mouth.” 

“Shit,” Steve growls, nipping at Bucky’s bottom lip. Bucky pulls away with a sly grin, ducking as Steve reaches out for him. They get dressed quickly, Steve in khaki shorts and a red tee and Bucky in black shorts and a navy blue shirt. 

Bucky grabs a bottle of tequila from the booze stash they coerced Ben to get for them and they go outside to meet the girls. 

“You reek of sex,” Carol says, grinning.

“It’s pretty awesome, actually,” Monica adds, taking the bottle of tequila. Bucky rolls his eyes as they follow the girls down the beach.

Bucky is still iffy around strangers, and he pretty much sticks to Steve like glue and lets him do the talking. It’s a pretty laid back event, just a bunch of locals sitting in a circle around a roaring fire. A couple of guys are strumming guitars and Bucky doesn’t even hesitate when someone hands him a joint. 

He inhales deeply, feeling the sticky sweet smoke burn his lungs before he exhales. He’s already pleasantly drunk, and he twists in Steve’s lap to press the joint to his lips. Bucky watches Steve’s mouth as he takes a hit, waiting until he blows the smoke out before handing the joint off to Carol and pressing a kiss to Steve’s lips. 

A few hours pass and Bucky is drunk and high, a pliant mess between Steve’s spread thighs. Steve has his fingers tangled in Bucky’s messy hair as Bucky works his mouth on Steve’s neck, slick and lazy. 

“Looks like you should get your boy home,” someone says to his right, and Bucky grins against Steve’s jaw.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “Take me home.”

They stand up on wobbly legs, brushing the sand from each other’s backs. Their farewells to the group are brief, and they give Monica and Carol hugs before they head back to the condo, hand in hand. 

They fall into bed, kissing and licking. They fuck, lazy and barely lucid, before falling asleep in a sweaty pile of limbs on the soft down comforter.

Their last full day in Cayucos gets off to a late start, both boys too content to sleep off their hangovers to get up and do anything. After a greasy breakfast that’s more like lunch at the town’s small diner, they finally head out to explore.

Steve has his digital camera around his neck, snapping pictures of everything that catches his interest. There is an overabundance of antique shops on the main drag, and Bucky takes delight in dragging Steve into every one of them. 

The buildings themselves seem to be antiques; all low ceilings and creaky stairs leading up to treacherous second floors that Steve is sure aren’t safe.

“This is the gayest thing I’ve ever done,” Steve stage whispers as Bucky looks over a display case of ancient crystal figurines. 

“Yesterday you sucked my cock and ate your come out of my ass,” Bucky reminds him, and Steve shoots him a look. 

“Yeah,” he replies, “and this is still gayer than that.”

They duck into the town’s tiny gift shop so Steve can add to the shot glass collection he started at Disneyland, and so Bucky can get Evie and Becs some sort of memento. He settles on matching pink puka shell necklaces. He gets Sam a bottle opener shaped like a naked girl. He figures he’ll appreciate it.

They drop their purchases off at the condo and head out to Pismo Beach on Monica and Carol’s insistence that they just had to go to the Splash Café. They dine on what they were assured is the world’s greatest clam chowder. Steve is on his second bowl when Bucky admits that yeah, it’s not half bad. 

They walk down the waterfront, listening to the band playing on the pier. Bucky buys them each a chocolate covered strawberry from a street vendor and flushes bright red when Steve feeds his to him and then leans in to lick the chocolate from his lips, eliciting a wolf whistle from the crowd. 

Their last night in the condo is sort of bittersweet. It’s almost like they’ve been living in this whole other world. A major change in their relationship took place here, and it’s going to be hard to leave the peace and tranquility behind.

Steve pulls the comforter from the bed upstairs to the living room, laying it in front of the open glass doors leading to the balcony. 

He makes love to Bucky there, slow and intense as the sounds of the sea crash over them in waves. Bucky trembles as Steve releases deep inside him, and they kiss languidly until they fall asleep in the cool night air.


	4. Chapter 4

They leave bright and early with hundreds of miles to cover before they get to Santa Cruz, their next destination. They’re taking the 1, following the jagged curves of the Pacific Coast Highway up the coast.

Bucky gets sort of nervous once they pass civilization and really get onto the two-lane highway, looking forgotten against the vast backdrop of the sea. There is only a few mere feet of earth separating them from the road and the harsh, rock edge of the cliff. 

He drives slowly, a few miles under the 30 mph speed limit, concentrating on the curves of the road and trying not to get distracted by the devastating beauty of the ocean in the sunlight. 

Steve makes him pull over at nearly every turn out, scaring the shit out of Bucky by climbing up onto rocks to take pictures, the toes of his flip flops hanging over the edge of crumbling dirt. Bucky tangles his fingers nervously in the hem of Steve’s shirt, peering over the edge of the cliff to look at the place where the waves crash unbidden against the rocks.

At one rest stop where Bucky has to precariously maneuver his new SUV down a veritable corkscrew of a dirt road until they reach the beach, Steve practically loses his shit because there is a sea lion hanging out near the rest rooms, right in the middle of the road. 

“Holy shit!” Steve screeches, causing Bucky to slam on the brakes. Steve presses his face against the glass as Bucky carefully drives around the sea lion to park the car. When they get out and start to approach it, Bucky tilts his head to one side. 

“Is it dead?” Bucky asks, and Steve falters in his step, like he’s horrified at the possibility. As if on cue, the sea lion lets out a huge gust of air and rolls onto his other side, flipper settling onto the hot asphalt. 

Steve takes a few more steps forward, camera held firmly in his hands. 

“Don’t get too close,” Bucky cautions. Steve smiles and crouches down a few feet from it. 

“It’s not gonna hurt anyone,” Steve replies, snapping a picture or two. “It’s just soaking up some sun. Come here,” Steve adds, when it becomes apparent that Bucky plans to stay a reasonable distance away. “I want to get a picture of you with it.”

Bucky slowly walks over to Steve and lets his boyfriend arrange him a safe few feet from the sea lion. He snaps a few pictures and they trade places, letting Bucky take a few snapshots of him making funny faces at it. 

They leave the sea lion and wander along the rocky shore for a while, stretching their legs. Steve asks pretty much every stranger they come across to take a picture of them, and when they come across a group of teenage girls he even indulges in a kiss, tangling his fingers in Bucky’s windblown hair as the camera clicks. 

They get back on the road not long after that, passing a town called Gorda that seems to be made up of little more than a diner and a gas station asking six bucks a gallon for regular unleaded. Bucky is downright flabbergasted by the price, and unsurprisingly, Steve makes him pull over to take a picture. 

They pass Big Sur, making a quick stop for caffeine for Bucky and a shot glass for Steve. They duck into a hippie shop, giggling insanely at their display of “crystal fertility symbols” which are pretty much glass dildos ranging in size from tiny to well, actual dildo sized. The old woman behind the counter smells like patchouli oil and glares at them when they get too loud. Bucky blushes crimson as he buys one of the larger ones, just for shits and giggles, and Steve laughs like a hyena behind him. 

“Should we pick up some essential oils?” Steve asks gleefully, gesturing at the display of oils across the room. Bucky rolls his eyes and pushes Steve towards the door. “Come on! It will help ease the way of our new fertility symbol! It will help us accept it into ourselves!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Bucky growls, pushing Steve through the beaded entryway and out into the crisp sunshine. 

“So you gonna let me use that glass dick on you later, or what?” Steve asks, wiggling his eyebrows as he slips his sunglasses down over his eyes. 

“Maybe I’ll use it on you,” Bucky threatens, unlocking the car. “Shove it up your virgin ass and wipe the smirk right off your face.”

Bucky ducks into the driver’s seat then, missing the way a shudder racks Steve’s body. 

Steve gets into the car and Bucky grins over at him, smile faltering when he sees Steve biting his lip. There’s a bulge at the front of his pants and Bucky’s breath catches when he sees it, teeth pressing into his full bottom lip. 

The air crackles between them, something unspoken on both of their minds. Steve’s cheeks turn pink and Bucky clears his throat, effectively ending the moment. They’re silent as Bucky pulls back onto the winding highway, but the wheels in his brain are turning.

They stop for dinner in Carmel, wandering slightly until Steve finds a gift shop to supplement his ever growing shot glass addiction. The sun is beginning to dip below the horizon, and Bucky is immensely grateful when the highway widens. He was not looking forward to driving along the steep cliffs at night.

When they finally pull into their hotel in Santa Cruz, they’re both tired and sick of being in the car. Bucky desperately wants a shower. His skin and hair feel greasy from the hours of recycled air and his clothes are wrinkled and damp with sweat. He runs his fingers through his hair as he enters the office to check in. Steve is quick on his heels, and he slings an arm across Bucky’s shoulders and presses a loving kiss against Bucky’s temple as he rings the service bell.

“Thanks for driving the whole way, Buck,” Steve says, nose skimming the soft skin behind Bucky’s ear. 

“No problem,” Bucky replies, leaving heavily against Steve’s side. A guy comes out of the back then, and Bucky’s gaydar pings wildly. He’s got frosted tips and he’s wearing an obscenely tight hot pink polo shirt. The guy grins when he sees Steve and Bucky standing entwined at his front desk.

“What do we have here?” He asks, clapping his hands together. 

“Checking in,” Bucky replies, hand resting over Steve’s heart. “Barnes.” The man, nametag reading Matt, nods and hits a few keys on his keyboard. 

“Just a standard room?” He asks, pouting. Bucky furrows his brow and shrugs. “That won’t do.” Matt gets a gleam in his eye and hits another series of keys. “We had a cancellation. Now, I won’t tell if you don’t.”

He slips over a set of keycards and winks at them. Bucky picks them up and looks up at Matt inquisitively. 

“Junior suite,” Matt clarifies. “You two are just too cute. Have fun.”

“Uh, thanks,” Bucky says, and looks over at Steve. They leave the office and get back into the car, driving around to park closer to their room. They heft their luggage out of the car and make their way up to the third floor. Bucky unlocks the door and they head inside. Steve lets out a low whistle. 

The suite is exactly that. A king sized canopy bed takes up much of the main room, and they have a balcony with ocean and boardwalk views. Bucky goes into the bathroom and gasps. There is a giant, sunken jet tub that he and Steve could both fit into comfortably. A basket of assorted bath items sits on the edge of the tub and Bucky wastes no time in stripping out of his clothes.

“Steve!” He calls, turning the water on and rocking impatiently on the balls of his feet as he waits for it to fill. He adds a little bit of bath salt and some bubble bath. He’s considering if it would be worth Steve making fun of him if he lit the candles when Steve comes in the room. 

“Wow,” Steve replies, eyes raking hungrily over Bucky’s naked body. 

“Take a bath with me?” Bucky asks, turning to face him. Steve nods and starts getting rid of his own clothes. “Will you make fun of me if I light candles?” 

“Not tonight,” Steve laughs, kicking his underwear into the corner of the room. Bucky beams, fetching his lighter out of his pants pocket and lighting a few candles. He climbs into the tub, hissing when the hot water touches his skin. He sits down and leans against the slick edge of the tub, reaching over to turn on the jets. Steve raises an eyebrow. 

“You’re the one lighting candles and I get the girly seat?” Bucky laughs and beckons Steve forward. Steve climbs into the tub and sits between Bucky’s legs, settling himself back against Bucky. He hisses when Steve brushes his soft cock, and he wraps his legs around Steve’s waist, relishing in the feeling of Steve all slick and warm against him.

After they relax for a few minutes, muscles loosening, Bucky prods Steve’s shoulder. “Dip down and get your hair wet for me.”

Steve does so, slipping under the water for a second. Bucky gets some shampoo in his palms, gently scrubbing it into Steve’s hair. He massages Steve’s scalp and the larger boy sighs, resting his hands on Bucky’s thighs under the water. He taps Steve’s shoulder again and he dunks under the water, Bucky’s fingers in his hair to get out all the shampoo. When he resurfaces, he rests his head on Bucky’s shoulder, sighing contentedly as Bucky lathers him up with soap. 

Bucky presses soft kisses to the side of Steve’s neck, slick hand sliding down Steve’s chest to dip under the water and curl around his cock. He gives it a squeeze and Steve hisses. Bucky catches Steve’s earlobe between his teeth as his thumb moves back and forth across the head of his dick. 

He lets his hand trail lower, fingertips ghosting across his balls to press behind them, the tip of his middle finger pressing against Steve’s hole. 

This is sort of unexplored territory. Sure, Bucky has rimmed him and slid a finger up his ass while giving him head, but nothing that had true purpose behind it. He presses the tip of his finger just inside Steve’s hole and Steve whimpers, legs falling wide open. He presses further back against Bucky, lifting his ass in a clear invitation. 

Bucky presses his finger in deeper, arm burning from the awkward angle. He pulls his finger out and lets Steve rock back against him, the head of his dick catching against Steve’s hole. He wants so badly to just grab Steve’s hips and thrust up into him, finally be inside of Steve. 

But it’s Steve’s first time bottoming. He deserves better than some clumsy fuck in a hotel bathtub. He deserves it to be as amazing as Bucky’s was. 

“Stevie,” Bucky breathes, grabbing Steve’s hips to still him. “I know what you want, baby. Let’s go to the bedroom so I can make it good.” 

Steve gets out of the tub, dripping water all over the floor. Bucky takes a deep breath, suddenly nervous. He dunks his head under the water, scrubbing his fingers through his hair before he gets out. They half-heartedly dry off and Bucky grabs the lube from his bag as Steve settles himself in the middle of the bed, legs spread and hands clenched in the sheets. Bucky crawls gracefully between his thighs, propping himself up over Steve and ducking down to kiss him passionately, tongues tangling. 

Bucky pulls away and kisses his way down Steve’s body, bypassing his leaking cock to press a soft kiss to his inner thigh. He’s trembling, and Bucky’s heart trips over a few beats. He’s going to make this so fucking amazing for Steve if it’s the last thing he ever does. 

Bucky grabs one of the many pillows and sticks it under Steve’s hips, pulling his legs open wider as he settles in, chest pressed against the bed. He touches his tongue to Steve’s clenched hole, laving it with long, wet licks. Steve pants, little uh uh uh’s of breath as he presses back against Bucky’s mouth. 

He pulls Steve’s cheeks apart with his thumbs, pressing his tongue insistently against Steve’s hole until he relaxes enough to let Bucky in. He fucks his tongue in as much as he can, scraping his teeth against the pink rim. 

Bucky lubes up his fingers as he continues to tongue at Steve’s ass, tasting soap and something darker, addicting. He pulls his mouth away and massages Steve’s hole with one finger, slicking it up before he presses in, all the way to the knuckle. 

Steve moans, back arching slightly. Bucky crooks his finger, searching. He knows when he’s found the right spot when Steve keens, ass clenching Bucky’s finger like a vice. He pulls one finger out only to shove two in, swallowing Steve’s cock at the same time to distract him from the burn. 

Steve’s hands clench painfully at Bucky’s shoulders, nails digging in. Bucky sucks Steve’s cock, bobbing up and down as he moves his fingers in and out. Steve can’t seem to decide where to put his hands, squeezing Bucky’s shoulders, petting his hair, touching his face. 

Bucky dribbles more lube on his hand and slides three fingers in this time. Steve hisses, and Bucky knows this is the most he’s ever taken. He lets Steve’s cock fall from his mouth and he moves down to lick at the stretched rim of Steve’s ass, tongue teasing between his fingers. 

“How’s it feel, baby?” Bucky asks, words muffled against Steve’s hole. He can’t seem to stop with the endearments. Any other time, Steve would call him out on it. But not tonight.

“Good,” Steve gasps out, pushing back against his fingers. “Want – want your cock, Buck. Please?”

Bucky swallows hard, sliding his clean hand up Steve’s trembling thigh. He pulls his fingers out and slides up Steve’s body, placing his clean hand on Steve’s cheek. 

“You sure?” Bucky asks, and Steve nods. He kisses Bucky, soft and sweet.

“Wanna feel you, Buck. Come on.” Bucky nods and pulls back, coating his bare dick with a liberal amount of lube. He wipes his hand on one of their discarded towels. He positions himself between Steve’s legs, and Steve instinctually wraps his legs around Bucky’s waist. He props himself up over Steve on one hand, the other gripping the base of his dick. He waits until he catches Steve’s eye and then pushes in, the head of his cock breaching the tight ring of muscle. Steve whimpers and Bucky grabs his hand, tangling their fingers together as Steve tenses all over. 

“Relax, baby,” Bucky says softly, lying down on top of Steve and cupping his cheek. “Let me in, okay?” 

Bucky catches his lips then, kissing him with everything he’s feeling – pleasure, passion, and overwhelming love. When Steve is distracted with the kiss, he pushes the rest of the way inside, bottoming out. 

Steve moans into Bucky’s mouth, loud and broken. Bucky clenches Steve’s hand tighter, fingers burying themselves in Steve’s silky hair.

Bucky wants to cry, it feels so good. He grins against Steve’s lips, thumb stroking across Steve’s temple. 

“Oh god, ungh – Buck,” Steve cries, hips thrusting back against Bucky. “Do it. Move.”

Bucky props himself back up on one hand while Steve keeps a death grip on the other. He stares down at Steve’s face, flushed a gorgeous shade of pink. His eyes are wide and glassy, lips red and swollen. 

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Bucky breathes, reaching down to grip Steve’s hip as he pulls out. He sets a steady pace, fucking Steve with long, slow thrusts. 

“So good, Buck,” Steve moans, reaching up to put his hand on the side of Bucky’s neck. “Love you so much.”

“Love you too,” Bucky replies, fucking into Steve a little harder, cock brushing over his prostate on every other stroke. He’s so close to the edge, pleasure crackling like electricity up his spine. He untangles his hand from Steve’s to reach down and wrap it around his cock, fingers twisting just how Steve likes it, thumb rubbing insistently at the slit. Steve cries out, thrusting up into Bucky’s hand and down against his cock. 

Seconds later, Steve tenses up and lets out a guttural shout as he comes, slicking Bucky’s fingers and his own belly. His ass spasms around Bucky’s cock, and that’s fucking it. That and the blissful expression on Steve’s face send Bucky over the edge and he empties himself inside Steve, crying out as spurt after spurt leaves him. 

He collapses on top of Steve, panting heavily into his neck. Steve’s thighs are trembling against Bucky’s hips and he slides clumsy hands down Bucky’s back to cup his ass. He breathlessly utters praise against Bucky’s temple, pressing kisses there whenever he can get a breath. 

“Good?” Bucky asks later, once he’s pulled out and they’re lying cuddled together under the covers. Steve pushes at his shoulder, and reaches up to cup Bucky’s jaw. 

“Amazing,” Steve says, kissing Bucky softly. “Don’t know why I waited so long.”

“Mm,” Bucky replies, yawning. “I love you.”

“You too,” Steve responds, smiling as Bucky tucks his head under Steve’s chin. 

They fall asleep like that, the lights of the boardwalk filtering in through the windows.

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

Bucky opens his eyes blearily, stretching until his back pops. His cell phone continues to ring, loud and obnoxious, on the nightstand. He groans and snatches it up, brows furrowing in confusion when he glances at the display.

“Steve?” He answers, looking around the room. “Where are you?” 

“Buck, you have to come downstairs!” He’s talking a mile a minute and Bucky, in his barely awake state, can barely understand him. “They have a fuckin’ waffle bar at their continental breakfast and it ends in half an hour. Get your ass down here and eat waffles with me!”

“Fine,” Bucky replies, swinging his legs off of the bed. “I’m on my way.”

He hangs up the phone and gets out of bed, wrinkling his nose at the pull of dried come on his belly. That in itself isn’t an unusual way for him to wake up, but the lack of an accompanying mess between his legs is something new. 

He smiles softly to himself as he remembers the night before, how amazing it felt to finally be inside of Steve, to have Steve trust him that much. He hurries as he wipes himself off with a wet washcloth and pulls on some clean clothes, suddenly wanting to be near Steve even more. 

The sun is bright as he heads downstairs, and he shields his eyes with his hand as he makes his way to the office. There are a few people scattered around the small dining area and Steve is at a table for two in the corner, shoveling fruit into his face as he reads the comics. There are two Belgian waffles sitting in front of him, covered in rapidly melting butter. Bucky weaves between the tables until he reaches Steve, leaning down to give him a quick kiss on the temple before dropping into his seat. 

“Hey,” Steve says, giving him a bright grin and setting down the paper. “I got yours for you.” 

“Thanks,” Bucky says, grabbing his plate and sliding it towards him. He picks up a fork and stabs it into a strawberry on Steve’s plate. “How are you feeling?” 

“Fine, why?” Steve asks, tearing his eyes from the comics to look over at Bucky. He wraps his lips around the end of the strawberry and wiggles his eyebrows. Steve actually blushes a little, smiling and biting his bottom lip. “A little sore, but good.” 

“Good,” Bucky replies, and then bites into the strawberry. Steve smirks and continues eating his waffle with one hand while going through a stack of pamphlets for what appears to be every single tourist attraction in the area. “You know we’re only here for two days, right?”

“I know,” Steve replies, sorting through the pamphlets until he spots a bright yellow one. “I want to go here, like, as soon as I’m done with this waffle.”

“The Mystery Spot?” Bucky inquires, raising an eyebrow. “I sort of thought we could go to the boardwalk, what with it being Santa Cruz’s most famous landmark and you know, right there,” he adds, gesturing towards the door with his fork.

“Exactly, it’s right there. It’s not going anywhere,” Steve responds, picking up the pamphlet. “We have to go!” He reads from the pamphlet, taking on a sort of creepy announcer voice. “Within the Mystery Spot you will be stunned as your perceptions of the laws of physics and gravity are questioned. But don't take our word for it, come and decide for yourself! Can we go, Buck?”

“Fine, we’ll go,” Bucky says. “But I’m taking a shower first.”

Steve grins and bounces a little before leaning over to give Bucky a sticky kiss.

The Mystery Spot is located in the woods on the outskirts of Santa Cruz, and Bucky nearly misses both nearly nondescript turnoffs. He sighs in relief when they finally find the place. He’s so sick of driving on curvy roads that it’s not even funny.

“They have shot glasses!” Steve cries as soon as they enter the gift shop to purchase their tickets. Bucky rolls his eyes in fond exasperation.

“Are we going to actually use these at any point?” Bucky asks as he pays for their tickets and the shot glass Steve sets down.

“How ‘bout tonight?” Steve asks, shoving the hastily wrapped shot glass in the oversized pocket of his cargo shorts once the cashier hands it over. 

“Okay,” Bucky agrees, and Steve hits the vending machine for a candy fix as they wait for their tour to begin. 

The tour actually turns out to pretty awesome. It’s the typical stuff; walking up walls, balls rolling uphill, things like that. Bucky’s favorite part is when they are picked out of the crowd to be part of a demonstration. The tour guide has them each stand on one end of a plank of wood and sets a level down on it. When they look over at each other, Bucky appears to be actually taller than Steve. He cackles in delight and asks the tour guide to take a picture. 

“Don’t get used to it, midget,” Steve cajoles, getting Bucky in a headlock. Bucky bites his chest hard enough to make him squeak. 

Once the tour is over, they head into downtown Santa Cruz to do a little exploring and get an early dinner. It’s barely six by the time they get back into the room, and Bucky collapses back onto the bed as Steve lines up their shot glasses on the dresser. 

“What’s your poison?” Steve asks, getting their alcohol supply out of his bag. 

“Whatever you want,” Bucky asks, getting up to collect all the shot glasses. He takes them into the bathroom and washes them out before returning them to the dresser. 

“Tequila it is,” Steve says, spinning the bottle in his hands. “There’s eight shot glasses here. Four shots each.” 

“Fuck,” Bucky says, grabbing his bottle of water off of the bed, prepared to chug. “In a row?” 

“Yes, you pussy!” Steve cries, filling up each glass to the brim and separating them into two groups of four. 

“With no salt and lemon?” Bucky whines, and then takes a long pull from his water bottle. He eyes the shots wearily. “If we had salt and lemon we could do body shots.” 

“No salt and lemon,” Steve replies. He picks up one shot and hands another to Bucky. “Take it like a man! One, two, three – go!” 

They slam back all four shots in rapid succession, and Bucky’s throat feels like it’s on fire by the time he’s done. He takes another long drink from his water bottle and then hands it over to Steve. 

“Well, give that a few minutes,” Steve laughs, eyes bright and happy. He tackles Bucky to the bed with a chuckle and, as it turns out, you really don’t need salt and lemon to do body shots.

So, they’re drunk, and they just had fucking  fantastic sex.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Steve pants into Bucky’s back, sliding his hands down Bucky’s arms and resting them on top of Bucky’s fingers, still curled in a death grip around the headboard.

His back is in an obscene arch and Steve runs his hand down it, slapping lightly at his ass. Bucky sucks in a breath and shudders, making Steve grin. 

“You like that?” Steve rasps, because it’s not uncommon for him to get obscene and rough when he’s drunk. Or any time, really. Bucky doesn’t say anything, still too fucked out to be coherent. Steve’s cock is still buried deep in Bucky’s ass, half hard and interested in round two. He slaps Bucky’s ass again and pulls his dick out slowly, staring intently at the pink, glistening hole. He slides two fingers in without preamble, making Bucky cry out and drop his forehead to the wall. He whimpers when Steve crooks his fingers up, his thighs trembling with the effort to stay on his knees.

“So fucking hot,” Steve says, watching his fingers slip in and out. Bucky groans, finally letting go of the headboard and dropping to his hands and knees on the bed.

“Fuck,” Bucky breathes, sighing as Steve withdraws his fingers. He flops down onto his back and Bucky rolls over, both of them staring up at the ceiling, pleasantly drunk and fucked stupid.

“We should probably leave the room at some point,” Steve says conversationally, “while you can still like, walk.”

Bucky cuts him a look, still breathing hard. He’s got streaks of come across his belly and Steve eyes him hungrily. He rolls over to pin Bucky but he moves out of the way too quickly, wobbling slightly when he stands up. 

“Let me get cleaned up,” Bucky says, slurring only slightly, “and we can hit the boardwalk.”

Steve nods and rolls out of bed, wiping down with the same cloth they used earlier, which is sort of gross but whatever. He pulls on a pair of khaki cargo shorts and a light blue shirt. That is followed up by a hoodie and he steps into his shoes as he runs his fingers through his blonde hair. He glances at his reflection in the mirror over the desk. Freshly fucked is a very good look on him. 

He pours out a few more shots of tequila in the shot glass collection they’ve started since they left home. His personal favorite is a crooked one proclaiming I got tipsy in California! that they picked up in Cayucos. 

“Buck!” He calls out, dropping the lid to the bottle and watching as it rolls across the floor. “You fall in or what?” 

Bucky comes out then, and Steve nearly drops the tequila bottle. “Shit.”

Bucky glances up, seemingly unaware that he’s about to make Steve’s dick explode simply from being so fucking hot. Short brown hair curling with the air, and those glasses Steve loves so much. Navy blue, form fitting military style jacket hanging open over a black shirt. Tight jeans and black Chuck Taylors. Steve feels his mouth go dry. 

“Okay, so fuck going out,” Steve says. “I’m going to fuck you against that wall with all your clothes on, because goddamn.” He gets up and makes his way towards Bucky, pressing him up against the wall and kissing his neck wetly. Bucky laughs and pushes him away, which in itself should be a crime. 

“Stop,” Bucky chuckles. “We’re in Santa Cruz. They’ll like, lynch us if we don’t hit the boardwalk. If you’re a good boy, I’ll let you fuck me on the balcony.”

“Deal.” Steve grins and hands over another shot glass. (Show me the booty!, courtesy of Pismo Beach.) “Drink.”

They knock back a few more shots, and it’s a miracle they manage to remember cell phones, wallets, and room keys before leaving. They giggle drunkenly on their way through the parking lot, earning a few curious glances in their direction. 

It’s late, and the cool ocean air feels amazing on their flushed faces. The bright lights of the Santa Cruz boardwalk glow in the distance, and they make their way towards it, stumbling only slightly down the street. 

“You’re going to get us arrested for public drunkenness, asshole,” Bucky practically screams, which Steve doesn’t think helps. They manage to get their wristbands without incident, and they quickly find out that roller coasters are fucking awesome when you’re drunk out of your skull. 

Well, for first three or four times. 

Bucky hangs over the railing, gunning a cigarette while Steve waits in line for funnel cake. He’s like, ridiculously excited for funnel cake. It’s crazy. He hears giggling behind him and he turns to see two teenage girls, only slightly younger than him. They’re both wearing tank tops and shorts, despite the chill in the air. 

“Hi,” one of them says, and she’s sort of ridiculously hot. Blonde hair and big blue eyes. Steve smiles warmly at them, leaning forward slightly. Bucky appears at his side, and their eyes light up like they’ve won the lottery. “Nice night,” Steve says, and leans down to nuzzle at Bucky’s neck. Bucky flushes red and slips his hand under Steve’s hoodie. The girls gasp and giggle again, and Steve offers them a grin before turning to order, Bucky’s fingers hot like brands against his stomach. 

They sit down at a picnic table so Steve can eat his funnel cake, and Bucky spends five minutes trying to light another cigarette before he finally gives up and admits the lighter is dead. 

“I’m gonna go bum a light from that dude,” he says after doing a quick scan of the area. “Hold on.”

Steve watches as he gets up and jogs over to a guy smoking and leaning up against the railing. He’s tall, with black hair and a hot body. He can see them talking but he can’t make out what they’re saying. His brow furrows when the guy turns his body towards Bucky and leans in close to light Bucky’s cigarette. When he reaches out to touch Bucky’s arm and Bucky laughs at something he said, Steve stands up and goes over to them. 

“Ready to go?” Steve asks into Bucky’s temple as he circles Bucky’s waist with his arms. The guy raises his eyebrow and Steve raises one right back, nose skimming Bucky’s cheek. 

“Yeah,” Bucky says, leaning heavily against Steve. ‘Uh, thanks for the light.” 

Steve pulls him away and leads him towards the entrance of the boardwalk. “What’s up, jealousy?” Bucky grins, nearly tripping over his own feet. 

“Dude, did you ever realize how fucking hot we are?” Steve asks loudly, earning a few weird looks. “Like, everyone wants us. Isn’t that fucking crazy?”

“Pretty crazy,” Bucky agrees. They wander down the waterfront in silence, Steve’s arm slung casually across Bucky’s shoulders. Most of the shops are closed but some still have their neon signs blazing, trying to attract tourists. One sign in particular catches Steve’s eye, and the gears in his brain drunkenly turn. 

“Dude, you know those ideas that you get when you’re really drunk that sound super awesome at the time but really like, probably aren’t?” Steve says excitedly. “I totally just came up with one.”

“And now I’m scared,” Bucky says, eyeing Steve wearily. Steve pulls away and waves his arms, because this is seriously one of his best ideas ever, drunk or not.

“No, like, seriously. I think this could be pretty awesome. It would commemorate our trip and like – you’re it for me. Buck, you know that, right? I wanna like – just come on.”

Steve drags Bucky through a door, and they both blink against the bright light. Two girls bounce up to them in bikini tops and tiny cut off shorts. They’ve got tattoos trailing down their arms and even Bucky can’t help but stare at their chests because  damn .

“Look what we have here!” The black and purple haired one croons, and takes Bucky’s face in her hands, turning it from side to side. The brunette with the shaved does the same to Steve, getting up on her tiptoes to slide her fingers through Steve’s hair.

“You boys are both getting done, right?” The girl with the shaved head practically moans, reaching over to run her hand down Bucky’s chest. “Please say yes.”

“Yes!” Steve yells, and Bucky shoots him a curious look. The girls shriek and bounce, their tits damn near coming out of their bikinis and Bucky sort of wants to punch Steve for staring. 

Bucky finally gets around to looking past the two hot (if slightly insane) girls and around the room, trying to make sense of the situation. That’s when it hits him. They’re in a fucking tattoo parlor. 

“Uh, Steve?” Bucky squeaks, but the brunette has already dragged him off to look at displays on the wall. She’s got a butterfly low on her back and Steve’s hand is resting slightly above it. The blonde in front of him takes his hat off and ruffles his hair, her fingers trailing down his neck. 

“Jesus,” she says, her voice rough with smoke. “The things I would let you do to me. You have no idea.”

Bucky blushes crimson and he’s drunk enough that heat curls low in his belly because he fucking gets off on dirty talk, alright?

“So what are you guys looking for?” The brunette asks, plastered against Steve’s side. Steve pulls away and steps behind Bucky, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s waist. Bucky leans back against him and instead of looking put out, the girls look even more intrigued. 

“Well, this is my boyfriend,” Steve says happily, sliding his hands into Bucky’s front pockets. “And like, I wanted us to get something. But not something like, really gay like our names or anything. Just – I dunno, something?”

Bucky thinks he should think this is a bad idea, but it actually sounds sort of awesome. That’s probably the liquor talking, but it’s sort of sweet. In a way. 

It’s definitely the liquor talking.

“Look at this one,” Steve says, walking Bucky over towards the nearest wall. He reaches up and points at a small design made up of four stars, the first being the size of a quarter and getting gradually bigger. It’s actually really cool. “I want you to get it here,” Steve says, slipping his hand past the waistband of his jeans and letting his long fingers trail along Bucky’s right hipbone. He presses wet kisses to Bucky’s neck as he speaks. “Can you imagine how fucking hot that would be?”

It’s really not fair for Steve to ask him anything when he’s drunk and he’s got Bucky all wrapped up in his arms with his hand down Bucky’s pants. So he’s pretty much sold on the idea.

“And what would you get?” Bucky says breathlessly, shifting his hips up because in his current state he wouldn’t be adverse to Steve jerking him off right here in front of these skanky girls. They would probably even enjoy the show. 

“The same thing,” Steve says. “Opposite hip.” 

“Yeah, alright,” Bucky says, dropping his head back on Steve’s shoulder and turning to kiss and bite at his neck, pressing his hips up into Steve’s hand. He pulls his hand out of Bucky’s pants and slides it up his stomach, pulling his shirt up as he goes. 

“Okay,” the black haired one says, “you guys seriously need to stop if you want us to be able to function properly.”

“But shit, you kids are hot,” the shaved head says, grabbing a box of rubber gloves. “Now drop your pants.”

The girls actually are professionals, and they aren’t led to the back until their ID’s are checked and consent forms are signed. Steve and Bucky both kick off their pants, Bucky in tiny black briefs and Steve in navy blue boxer briefs. They climb up on the chairs and look over at each other.

“Tell me this isn’t a bad idea,” Bucky says, and Steve grins lazily. 

“This is a fucking awesome idea,” Steve replies, and they both look up as the girls walk in. The shaved head girl, Nebula, takes Bucky and the black and purple haired girl, Gamora, takes Steve. Huh, weird names. 

“Best night ever,” Nebula says as she pulls Bucky’s briefs down slightly. She scrubs the sensitive skin of his hip with an alcohol swab and Bucky bites his lip. Nebula presses the decal onto Bucky’s hip. Gamora nods as she does the same to Steve. “How’s it look, boys?” 

They look over at each other’s decals and then up at each other, grinning. 

“Let’s do it,” Steve says, catching Bucky’s eye. Bucky nods and hooks his thumb in the waistband of his underwear, holding it down so Nebula can work. She grins up him, her large breasts pressed firm against his thigh.

“Ready?” She asks, dipping the needle of her tattoo gun into a thimble of black ink. Bucky swallows hard and nods, bracing himself for the pain. The needle touches the thin skin stretched over the sharp bone of his hip, white hot pain, and he gasps. He looks over at Steve, takes in the slight arch of his spine. Gamora is draped over his lap, hair falling over her face as she concentrates. 

“You’re turned on,” Bucky says, the alcohol in his system and the pain from the needle making him forget to censor himself. Steve looks over, grinning wide and lazy. Bucky knows that look when he sees it. 

“He’s not the only one,” Nebula mumbles, and Bucky blinks as she shifts her weight. He’s hard as a fucking rock, his underwear tenting obviously. He blushes crimson and Nebula looks up at him, grinning. “Happens all the time.”

“I don’t think you girls will mind that I say this,” Steve says, “but Bucky, I am going to fuck you so hard when we get back to the room.” 

“God Steve, shut up,” Bucky groans, looking down to watch Kerri etch permanent lines into his skin. The pain buzzes pleasantly through his entire body and Kerri swirls red in with the black. It’s not long before she’s done and she puts her gun down, surveying her work. Gamora’s gun stops buzzing just a few moments later and the girls rub ointment on the inflamed skin. 

“These boys have to go up on the wall, no question,” Nebula says, sliding her stool over to inspect Gamora’s work. 

“Definitely,” Gamora says, clapping her hands together. “Alright, boys. Get up. Take your shirts off. Make it sexy.”

Steve and Bucky grin and get off of the chairs, standing in front of each other and lifting each other’s shirts. They pull them off and toss them on the chairs. The girls lead them over to a blank wall and they arrange them hip to hip, so it’s almost like their stars make one continuous line, one body to the other. 

They cock their hips out, hooking their thumbs in their waistbands and tugging them down to reveal their new tattoos and a lot of extra skin. They dip their heads and place a hand on each other’s sScottachs, fingers digging into skin. 

“That’s it,” Nebula says, snapping numerous shots with a Polaroid camera. She hands all the pictures over to Gamora as they come out. “So go make copies, Gamora, like now. For like, research.” 

Gamora scampers off and Nebula places bandages over their tattoos. “Alright boys, as much as it pains me to say it, you can put your clothes back on.”

The boys laugh, sharing awkward, drunken kisses as they stumble into their pants. Nebula and Gamora come in, breaking up their impromptu make out session and making sure they pay attention to the after care instructions. 

They leave Nebula and Gamora with big tips and slightly obscene kisses before they stumble out into the cold night air, arms around each other and laughing.

“I can’t believe you made me get a tattoo,” Bucky says, pulling on the sleeve of Steve’s hoodie. 

“I can’t believe you popped wood with a girl in your lap. Way to be gay,” Steve retorts. Bucky throws his head back and wraps an arm around Steve’s waist. 

“I’m still hard,” Bucky whispers in Steve’s ear. “When we get back to the room I want you to suck me. And then I want you to fuck me so hard.”

He feels Steve shudder and nod, dragging Bucky just a bit faster in his impatience to do just that.

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

When Bucky opens his eyes the next morning, he immediately wishes he hadn’t. His head throbs and his mouth is bone dry. Steve is half on top of him, making his whole body sweat.

“Get the fuck off,” Bucky says, pushing his fucking gigantic furnace of a boyfriend off of him. Steve grumbles but doesn’t wake up, curling in on himself on the other side of the bed. Bucky flips himself over onto his stomach, trying to get more comfortable. His hip drags painfully across the sheets and he hisses. He rolls onto his back and pushes the covers down. There is a white bandage taped across his hip and he furrows his brow, a memory tingling at the back of his mind. 

“What the – oh fuck.” He pauses, suddenly remembering kissing a scary bald girl rather enthusiastically. He groans and rolls his eyes, reaching down to rip the bandage from his skin. The black and red tattoo stands out starkly against the pale, freckled skin stretched across his hip. He lets his head fall back to the pillow, taking a deep breath before turning on his side and proceeding to beat the ever loving shit out of Steve.

“You dick!” Bucky says, pounding on Steve’s back. “I’m never getting drunk with you again.” Steve wakes up at some point during the beating and rolls over, trying to deflect Bucky’s fists. “Let’s get tattoos!” Bucky says in a mocking, high pitched voice. “It’ll be so hot! Ugh, I can’t fucking believe this.”

“Buck!” Steve yells, finally managing to grab his wrists. “Calm the fuck down. Shit!”

“Calm down?” Bucky shrieks. “I have a tattoo, Steve.”

“I know,” Steve says, bravely letting go of one of Bucky’s wrists. “So do I. I got it for you.”

“You got it for me. What a load of – oh.” Bucky cuts himself off when Steve pulls off his own bandage and Bucky catches sight of Steve’s identical tattoo, black and red against the tan skin of his hip. It’s sort of ridiculously hot, and Bucky bites his lip.

“I don’t regret it,” Steve says, pressing his hip against Bucky’s so their tattoos line up. Bucky’s features soften and he sighs and rolls his eyes. He reaches out to lightly touch the inflamed skin of Steve’s tattoo, making his boyfriend hiss. 

“Fine. I guess they’re not so bad,” Bucky relents, admiring the lines of ink of Steve’s skin. “It’s not like they’re huge or anything.” He looks over to see Steve’s eyes traveling across his naked body hungrily. “Oh no. I need like eight Tylenol and another six hours of sleep before you can even look at me like that.”

Steve chuckles and rolls out of bed, coming back a few moments later with a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol. He puts a few in Bucky’s hand and watches as he drinks down the water. He takes his own pills and sets the glass down on the nightstand before he lies back down, gathering Bucky in his arms. 

“Are you really mad at me?” Steve asks quietly, dragging the tip of his nose along Bucky’s cheek. Bucky rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to Steve’s chin.

“No. Punk.” Bucky presses himself up against Steve, and his warm skin stings his tattoo but he doesn’t move away, too content in Steve’s arms. “Now let me sleep.”

The next time Bucky wakes up, the pounding in his skull is less intense and there is loud music blaring somewhere in the vicinity of his ear.

_ I kissed a girl and I liked it, the taste of her cherry chapstick. I kissed a girl just to try it. I hope my boyfriend don’t mind it. _

The only reason Bucky knows it’s his cell phone is the annoying buzzing accompanying his new ringtone. He has no idea how Steve managed to get up and be functional enough to replace his normal ringtone with one that mocks Bucky’s unfortunate drunken antics when Bucky himself feels like bashing his own head in with the heaviest object he can pick up. Clearly, Steve is the devil.

“Fucking douchebag,” Bucky mumbles, reaching out to grab the phone. He glances blearily at the display and rolls his eyes.

“What?” He croaks once he answers, rolling over to face away from the balcony and the evil sunlight it’s letting flood the room. 

”Dude,” Ben laughs. ”It’s like noon. How’s the hangover?”

“Marginally less annoying than you on a good day, which is to say really fucking annoying,” Bucky quips, and reaches out for Steve, furrowing his brow when he only finds cold sheets. He sits up and looks around the hotel room, letting out a tiny noise of displeasure when he sees that it’s empty. 

”You’re being smart about that shit, right?” Ben asks. Bucky rolls his eyes and rubs the sleep out of them.

“No bottles in the car. Bag them up and keep them in the trunk,” Bucky says, repeating Ben’s rules in monotone. 

”Good,” Ben says. ”I just wanted to see how you guys were doing.”

“Uh,” Bucky says, looking down at his tattoo. “Great.”

”Lots of crazy monkey sex?”

“You’re oddly interested in my sex life, Ben.” 

”Whatever,” Ben replies flippantly. ”You guys are headed for San Francisco in the morning, right?”

“That’s the plan,” Bucky answers. “Maybe not like, morning. Check out sounds more believable. Why?” 

“Just curious. San Fran is awesome. You’ll like it,” Ben says thoughtfully. “Especially with you being queer and all.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Bucky rolls his eyes and stretches. “Was there a point to this phone call?”

“I just wanted to check up on my little brother, damn!” Ben says, affronted. ”Fine. I’ll let you go, you ungrateful little prick. Say hi to Steve for me.”

“Sure thing,” Bucky yawns. “Love ya, Ben.”

”I call bullshit but whatever, you too.” Bucky smiles as he slides his phone shut and manages to get out of bed and stumble into the bathroom. 

By the time he brushes his teeth and showers, he feels human again. When he comes out of the bathroom with his towel around his hips, Steve is sitting on the bed and flicking through the cable channels. 

“Hey,” Bucky says, going over to rummage through his luggage for some clothes. “Where’d you go?” 

“Do you have any idea how much they charge for lube in the gift shop?” Steve asks. “It’s fucking obscene.” Bucky snorts and drops his towel to pull on a pair of green plaid Bermuda shorts and a soft light green tee. “So I found a drug store down the street. Got the necessities – lube, Vaseline, candy, and caffeine.”

“Vaseline?” Bucky queries, grabbing his glasses from the nightstand and slipping them on. He flops down on the bed next to Steve, their thighs brushing. 

“For our tattoos,” Steve replies, reaching into the plastic bag next to him and pulling it out. “I was uh, reading the after care instructions. We have to keep Vaseline on them. And I sort of fucked us out of swimming for the rest of the trip, because you’re not supposed to like, submerge them in water or expose them to direct sunlight.”

“Oh. Well, who wants to get wet or be in the sun on a beach vacation anyway?” Bucky says sarcastically, cutting Steve a look. Steve smiles back sheepishly. 

“It’s almost over anyway,” Steve says. “And I don’t think you were planning on doing any swimming in San Francisco. Now come on. You do mine and I’ll do yours.” Steve hands over the small pot of Vaseline and waggles his eyebrows mischievously, lifting up the hem of his tee shirt. Bucky rolls his eyes and scoots closer, popping the lid off.

“Fine, but no funny stuff,” Bucky says as he scoops out a little bit of the clear goop and carefully rubs it across Steve’s tattoo. “We’re going exploring today. We’ve been in Santa Cruz two days and we’ve spent it most of it in a drunken sex haze.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it,” Steve says when they switch places. Bucky bites his lip as Steve’s fingers slide across the sensitive skin of his hip. 

“I did,” Bucky replies, pushing Steve’s hand away when it starts to wander up his sScottach. “But I need more than sex, Steve. I need tide pools and sea lions. So get your ass up and let’s go!” 

Bucky bounces into the bathroom to put in his contacts and Steve laughs, rolling off of the bed and shaking his head.

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

They spend the day exploring.

Bucky is especially fascinated by the tide pools tucked behind Natural Bridge State Park. Steve has his omnipresent new digital camera ready. It was a graduation gift from his parents and he’s barely put it down. By now, Bucky is used to the incessant snapping of the flash. It’s like he has his own personal paparazzi, and he usually dreads checking Steve’s new photos on Myspace. But it’s sort of worth it see his status marked as in a relationship and his default picture being one of him grinning while Bucky kisses his temple. Steve is nothing if not a romantic, and there’s no way Bucky can deny that he loves it being directed at him.

“Look at me!” Steve calls, and Bucky spins around. There is a gigantic natural bridge in the water behind him, and he poses, his smile bright. Steve snaps a picture and jogs to catch up with Bucky, and together they tackle the tide pools. 

It’s difficult, and Steve tucks his camera safely into its bag before they start climbing. The rocks are sharp and jagged, cold and slippery against their hands and feet. Soon they make their way to a relatively stable surface and Steve pulls his camera back out. Bucky smiles fondly and hops over a puddle before turning back to crouch down before it. He barely rolls his eyes when he catches another flash, and instead peers into the water. 

“Dude!” Bucky exclaims, pointing. “It’s one of those, um – shit, what are they called? The things Nemo lived in!” 

“An anemone?” Steve asks, fiddling with his camera as he crouches down. 

“Yeah!” Bucky says, and then looks up. “I dare you to poke it.” 

Steve shrugs and reaches into the water. Bucky reaches out and grabs his arm, nearly knocking them both backwards. 

“Not with your hand, dumbass!” Bucky shrieks. “They have like, toxins or something. Poke it with a stick!” 

“Do you see a stick anywhere?” Steve asks, and Bucky looks around at the vast expanse of stickless rock. He furrows his brow and leaves Steve with the task of taking awesome pictures of the anemone while he hunts down a stick. He finally finds a piece of driftwood and comes back holding it up, triumphant.

“This seems like a lot of work just to poke a defenseless animal,” Steve says, but that doesn’t stop him from switching his camera to video mode and grabbing the stick from Bucky. 

“Do not deny a man his simple pleasures,” Bucky states, and watches as Steve pokes the anemone with the stick. It wriggles, blossoming out like a vivid flower before curling in on itself tightly. “Worth it!” 

They both laugh, poking around the tide pools for a while longer before heading back to the beach. Once they reach the smooth expanse of sand, Steve switches his camera to playback mode and starts scrolling through the pictures as they walk. The wind whips around them frigidly, and Bucky is once again surprised at the temperature of the beach in July and glad he wore a light hoodie. 

He moves in closer to Steve anyway, both for warmth and to look at the pictures on the tiny screen of Steve’s camera. There are mostly pictures of Bucky himself, some posed and some candid, along with a lot of scenery and a fair amount of the one armed tourist shot, both of their faces smushed in the frame with not much ocean visible behind them. 

His fingers brush against Steve’s as they walk, and Steve casually catches them in his own. He tangles their fingers together without a thought, squeezing gently as his eyes stay focused on his camera. 

Bucky can’t help the way his heart beats a little faster and he ducks his head to hide his smile. He’s a walking cliché, strolling along a sandy beach hand in hand with his gorgeous boyfriend.

Cliché or not, he’s in love – and life doesn’t get much better than this.

Steve leads them towards the pier, fingers still entangled as they make their way down it. They duck into a gift shop to add to their shot glass collection and try on the most ridiculous sunglasses they can find. After leaving the store, the faint sound of barking reaches Bucky’s ears and his eyes light up.

“Sea lions!” He drags Steve over to the edge of the pier and looks down, bouncing up and down when he spots the sea lions littering the floating deck. “Take some pictures.” Steve laughs and pulls out his camera, leaning over the railing to get some shots. 

He looks over at Bucky, biting his lip at the pretty picture his boyfriend makes. Bucky’s cheeks are flushed with pleasure and the slight chill of the ocean air, hair fluttering in the breeze. He hasn’t cut it since they got together, and it’s beginning to curl slightly around his ears and at the nape of his neck. He stands up on his tiptoes, steel blue eyes shining as he leans over the railing. Steve takes a few steps back to focus his lens on Bucky instead. 

Bucky is by far his favorite subject, has been for a while, even before they started dating. 

Bucky spots a staircase a few yards down the pier leading to a platform where they can get even closer. Bucky turns and gives him a childish grin, and Steve laughs as he lets himself be tugged along.

A few hours later finds them back at the boardwalk, new wristbands on top of the ones from last night. They stay until the sun dips down past the sea, riding all the rides and playing the old school carnival games. Steve wins Bucky a teddy bear at the ring toss and Bucky tucks it in the pocket of his hoodie, fluffy brown head peeking out. 

They stumble into the room later, Steve pressing Bucky firmly against the wall to kiss him before the door even closes. His fingers splay across Bucky’s chest, thumb and forefinger framing his collarbones. They kiss warmly, Bucky letting out a soft noise of approval and curling his fingers in Steve’s hoodie. 

Steve kicks the door shut and unzips Bucky’s hoodie at the same time. The pace is slow and languid, neither one of them in a hurry as they make their way towards the bed. Bucky pulls his shirt off and tosses it aside as Steve pushes him down onto his back. He loses his own shirt before he sinks to his knees before Bucky. He makes quick work of Bucky’s fly, pulling his shorts and underwear down and off. Bucky props himself up on his elbows to watch as a gorgeous flush works its way down his neck.

Steve slides his hands up Bucky’s inner thighs, spreading them apart slightly as he leans in. Wrapping his hand loosely around the base of Bucky’s dick, he leans in to press a kiss to the head. Bucky lets out a broken moan, his hand coming up to tangle in Steve’s unruly hair. 

Steve lets out a pleased noise and takes Bucky deep into his mouth, wriggling his tongue against the underside. Bucky moans and squirms, hips jerking. Steve puts his hands on Bucky’s hips, thumbs digging into the bones there. Steve bobs up and down, blowing Bucky wet and messy, humming happily. 

He pulls off when Bucky tenses, resting his forehead on Bucky’s hip as he breathes heavily. Bucky cradles Steve’s face in his hands, thumbs sliding along his cheekbones. Steve turns his head and takes Bucky’s thumb into his mouth, biting softly at the tip. 

He slides up Bucky’s body, kissing him softly as he slides his hands under Bucky’s back and flips them over in one seamless motion. 

“Ride me?” Steve asks breathlessly, biting down on Bucky’s bottom lip. Bucky sits up, straddling Steve’s thighs. He reaches over to grab the lube and presses it into Steve’s hand.

“If you get me ready,” Bucky replies, shifting up onto his knees and spreading his legs. Steve grins and gets lube on his fingers, sitting up slightly to reach between Bucky’s legs.

“You just love getting fingered,” Steve says, eyes lighting up when Bucky blushes. Steve teases, circling Bucky’s hole with one slick finger. Bucky whimpers, pushing his ass back, and Steve grins. He slips the tip of one finger inside only to pull it back out. Bucky grunts, slapping his palm down on Steve’s chest. 

“Stop fucking around,” Bucky growls, fingertips digging in. Steve slides his middle finger all the way in, crooking it until he presses against Bucky’s prostate. Bucky groans and lets his head fall back. Steve smiles and pulls his finger out. “Fuck, Steve.”

Steve suddenly shoves two fingers deep inside Bucky, making him cry out. He lifts himself higher on his knees, reaching back to spread his cheeks as Steve stretches him open. Steve watches Bucky’s face closely as he slides in a third finger. Bucky shivers, lips parting on a moan. 

Bucky slaps Steve’s hand away and grips the base of his dick. He sinks down onto it in one smooth motion, sitting on Steve’s lap with his cock buried deep inside. They both let out soft moans, Bucky letting his head tilt back as he starts to move up and down. 

It’s not long before they’re coming, shouts echoing off of the walls and no doubt giving their neighbors quite a treat. Bucky collapses next to Steve in a sticky pile, wiping his hand through the mess on his stomach. 

“That was awesome,” Steve says, all matter of fact. “Not as awesome as sex on the balcony would have been, but still good.”

“Fuck off!” Bucky laughs, and pushes Steve off of the bed with his feet. Steve flails wildly and hits the floor with a loud thump. Bucky laughs so hard he has to wipe tears from his eyes.

  
  



	8. Chapter 8

Steve wakes him up early, hours before checkout, so they can go get a waffle. Bucky gripes and bitches but lets himself be dragged along, clad in only his pajamas, flip-flops and sunglasses.

After they’ve eaten their fill, they head back upstairs to shower and pack. Bucky’s tattoo still stings a little, but it’s not as red and inflamed as it had been yesterday. Steve’s already looks all healed, soft and smooth like it’s been there for years. It still shocks Bucky when he sees it, a permanent mark on Steve’s body that’s all for him. It makes him flush, all warm and possessive. 

Bucky presses Steve against the wall before they leave, kisses him softly and slides his fingertips across the inked lines on his hip. Steve’s hand automatically goes to Bucky’s tattoo and he kisses him harder, tongue going deeper and teeth nipping just a bit harder. 

“I’m getting used to these,” Bucky says, the words muffled against Steve’s mouth. “Ready to go?”

“San Francisco or bust,” Steve replies, swiping his tongue across Bucky’s bottom lip before pulling away to grab the luggage. Bucky watches the pull of muscle under Steve’s tan skin as he lifts the bags, smiling softly at Steve when he’s caught in the act. Steve winks, and Bucky rolls his eyes. He slips his sunglasses on and heads out into the bright, hot California sunshine. 

It’s about an hour and a half drive to San Francisco, and they make it into the bustling city around lunchtime. Bucky turns off the radio and sits forward in his seat, shushing Steve every time he tries to talk. 

The city streets are narrow and crawling with pedestrians. They dip suddenly; following the hills San Francisco is famous for. Cars, taxis, and trolleys all compete for the same space on the road, and it makes Bucky more than a little bit nervous.

They stop for lunch at pretty much the first place Bucky can find with a convenient parking space even though they’re both still pretty full from the late breakfast. They order coffee and leaf through a city guide, idly making plans and killing time until they can go check into their hotel. 

When they finally do arrive at their hotel on the edge of Union Square, Bucky wrinkles his nose at the somewhat derelict building. They have to park in a public garage half a block from the hotel, and Bucky feels just a little bit swindled as they enter the lobby. 

The building is ancient, so much so that Steve has to duck under doorways. The person behind the counter can barely speak English, the elevator is broken, and when they finally get to the room there are two twin beds instead of the king Bucky requested. 

“Okay,” Bucky says, dropping his bag on the musty carpet. “Hotels.com is so gonna hear about this.” 

He turns to see Steve eyeing the miniscule bathroom dubiously, as if wondering how the hell his gigantic ass is even going to fit in there. Bucky sighs, frustration making his cheeks burn.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” he starts, arms flapping uselessly at his sides. “I sort of blew the budget on the nicer hotels and the condo, and surprising you with Disneyland. And I swear this place didn’t look this bad on the website and – shit.” 

“Buck, calm down,” Steve replies, chuckling softly. “It’s fine.” Bucky still doesn’t look convinced, so Steve walks over to him and places his hands on Bucky’s cheeks, forcing the smaller boy to look up at him. “This trip has been amazing, Bucky. You’ve done more for me than I could ever ask for, and a run down hotel isn’t going to put a damper on our good time, okay?” 

“Okay,” Bucky replies, nodding. Steve gives him a soft kiss and pulls away. He drops down onto the bed closest to the door, and the springs squeak ominously. 

“This way is good,” Steve assures him. “Because now when I fuck you stupid and make you come all over yourself, neither of us will have to sleep in the wet spot.” 

There’s a sudden banging like a fist against a wall, and a loud catcall from the room next door. Bucky is mortified, blood rushing to his cheeks. Steve laughs and sits up, grabbing Bucky’s hips and pulling him close. 

“Quietly,” he whispers, grinning wide and leaning in to press a kiss to the center of Bucky’s chest. “I’ll fuck you quietly.”

They leave the hotel to go exploring. Steve’s camera is fully charged and ready to go, and Bucky wonders just how fucking big the memory card in that thing is because Steve never seems to stop snapping pictures.

They scour Union Square, ducking into swanky shops just to laugh at the prices and try on ridiculous clothes until holier than thou employees kick them out. They wander around until they get their fill of San Francisco’s shopping district (which doesn’t take very long) and then they park it on a stone bench and crack open their city guide, looking every bit like tourists that they are. 

“Ooh, Fisherman’s Wharf!” Steve exclaims, jabbing at the map. Bucky shakes his head. 

“We’ve got tickets for Alcatraz Scottorrow so we’ll be out there anyway,” Bucky replies. “We could go to the Castro and hit a club or something?” 

“The gay mecca!” Steve laughs, looping his arm around Bucky’s shoulders. “We can mingle with our people.”

“Something like that,” Bucky chuckles, already mentally weighing their public transportation options. Driving is out. He’s actually hoping he won’t have to drive again until they’re ready to leave the city. 

“Let’s do that,” Steve says, rustling Bucky’s hair. “But can we eat first?” 

“Yeah,” Bucky replies. “I could eat.” 

They decide on The Cheesecake Factory on the top floor of Macy’s, and even though it was almost a week ago now, Bucky tells the waitress it’s Steve’s birthday. Steve blushes as they sing to him and smirks at Bucky as he blows out the candle on his complimentary slice of cheesecake. 

It’s around eight by the time they get back to the hotel, and they both manage to take a shower. Though not at the same time. That would be physically impossible in a shower that size. While Steve showers, Bucky plugs in his blow dryer, which hey, air drying takes forever and Steve used to use it before he even started liking dick, so whatever. 

He does his hair and goes through the clothes in his suitcase, some still in shopping bags, trying to find something suitable for a club. He finally settles on a pair of tight black jeans, a light gray tee, and the jacket he wore the other night. It’s slightly wrinkled and smells sort of like sea salt and tequila, but it works. 

Steve comes out of the bathroom then, stopping dead in his tracks when he sees Bucky.

“You’re seriously trying to kill me, aren’t you?” Steve asks, flicking his wet hair out of his eyes as he looks Bucky up and down. “Where did you even get all these clothes?” 

“Uh, Nat took me shopping,” Bucky says, studying himself in the mirror over the vanity and wrinkling his nose. It’s amazing how great he and Natasha get along now that Steve has stopped pining for her. 

“When?” Steve asks as he pulls his suitcase up on the bed. 

“That weekend you spent holed up at Sam’s playing Call of Duty until your eyes bled,” Bucky replies as he slips on a pair of black canvas shoes. “She called me up and asked me to go, and she wouldn’t let me buy anything that wasn’t like, a size too small.”

“Remind me to send her a thank you card.” Steve watches as Bucky slides a hand down his flat stomach, trying to smooth out the wrinkles in his jacket. When he lifts his arms to mess with his artfully ruffled hair, his shirt slips up enough to expose the top of his tattoo peeking out from above the waistband of his jeans. “You don’t even have any idea how hot you are, do you?” 

“Neither did you until two months ago,” Bucky says casually, but his cheeks are pink and he’s smirking. 

“Yeah, well, I’m an idiot,” Steve replies, giving Bucky one last long look before he does his hair. He decides on jeans and a blue button down as his going out clothes, and they head out of the room. 

They hear raucous laughter as they head downstairs, and when they reach the lobby the first thing they see is the annoyed glare of the front desk clerk aimed at the sitting area. Suddenly, two strong arms wrap around Bucky from behind and he lets out a squeak. 

“Bucky-bear!” The guy shouts, and Bucky struggles against the grip even more than when he thought it was a stranger. 

“Tony?” He replies, craning his head back only to get a face full of long brown hair. 

“Hands off, Stark!” Steve shouts playfully, pulling Bucky out of Tony’s grip and into his own. “You don’t get to touch anymore.”

“Spoilsport,” Tony smirks, and Bucky whips around to face the rest of the lobby. Ben, Garrett, Bruce, Clint, Scott, and even Sam take up every available sitting space in the lobby. 

“What the fuck are you all doing here?” Bucky shouts, completely shocked to see everyone. Ben gets up and saunters over, a cocky grin on his face. 

“Tony and Bruce had a gig in San Jose last night,” he says. “It was too perfect. You never should have given the moms a copy of your itinerary.” 

“How did you all even get here?” Steve asks, reaching out to bump fists with Sam. 

“The van,” Ben answers, the duh going unsaid. 

“Seven people traveling over 500 miles in a van with only two seatbelts,” Bucky says dryly. “Yeah, that’s safe.” 

“Whatever. Where are you guys heading tonight?” Ben asks. “And why the fuck do you look like you just stepped out of a Panic at the Disco video?” 

“He looks fuckin’ hot,” Steve says, slinging his arm around Bucky’s shoulder and pushing Ben with his other hand. “Lay off.”

“Whatever man,” Ben replies, chuckling. “You didn’t answer my first question.” 

“A club. In the Castro,” Bucky adds, when their eyes light up. 

“Oh, so like a gay club,” Garrett says. Bucky rolls his eyes. 

“That’s sort of a given,” Bucky says. They all seem to have some sort of telepathic conversation with each other, glancing around and exchanging eyebrow raises, shrugs, and grins. It sort of freaks Bucky out. 

“I’m up for it,” Clint says. Scott laughs and punches his shoulder. 

“You’re up for anything,” he says. Clint just grins at him. 

“Gay club it is,” Bruce says, getting up and clapping his hands together. 

“I don’t wanna go to a gay club!” Sam groans, and Tony flicks his ear. 

“What does it matter to you anyway, dickweed?” Tony asks. “You’ve got that pretty little girl waitin’ for you at home.” 

“That’s right,” Sam says haughtily, thinking about Wanda. “Fine, whatever. I’m in. But the first guy that tries to get all up in my jock is getting kicked in the balls.”

“So it’s settled,” Tony announces. “We’re following the queers to the Castro. Now go get your shit, kids.”

“Why?” Bucky asks.

“Because when I saw what a shithole this place was, I took the liberty of booking you guys a room at our hotel. It’s only a few blocks away, and it’s you know, not a fucking dump.”

“Hey!” The desk clerk shouts, looking more pissed off by the second.

“Sorry!” Tony yells back. “Now let’s go.”

“We can’t afford it, Tony,” Bucky says, and Tony pushes them towards the stairs. 

“I said me and Bruce got it covered,” he tells them. “Consider it a birthday present, Steve.” 

“Hey, I’ll take it,” Steve shrugs, grabbing Bucky’s hand and tugging him up the rickety stairs. 

“Go,” Tony says. “I’ll get you all checked out here.” Bucky shrugs and follows Steve up the stairs to quickly pack up their shit. 

“Oh fuck,” Bucky says, and Steve turns to face him. “That means I have to fucking drive again.”

Steve’s booming laugh echoes around the tiny room.

Actually, Ben drives Bucky’s car the short distance through heavy traffic while Bucky bitches about being relegated to the backseat of his  own fucking car .

The hotel they pull up to is nice, nothing too fancy but they do have valet service. Tony, Bruce, Ben, and Garrett are all bunked in one double room while Sam, Clint, and Scott share another. Steve and Bucky get their own room, because the general consensus is that no one wants the hear them fucking all night. 

They drop off their shit and catch the F line, the historic trolley that cuts through the city, down to the Castro. It’s dark by the time they all finally arrive, but the main drag is packed with people. Rainbow flags line the streets and drag queens seem to mix seamlessly with the crowd. 

There are stores with names like Rock Hard, proudly displaying sex toys in the windows. There’s a pizza place called The Sausage Factory and someone whistles as they walk by. 

“This place is fucking awesome,” Bucky crows, eyes bright and excited. Steve laughs and slings his arm around Bucky’s shoulders as they walk. The club they choose has a bit of a line, but the dance music is loud enough that the sidewalks vibrate with the force of the bass. 

While they wait, Steve wonders how they’re going to get in without ID, but Bucky doesn’t seem too concerned. They bring up the back of the line, and Steve’s fears ease as the bouncer doesn’t ask to see a single ID. The huge bouncer even winks at Bucky as they pass and Steve pulls him tighter against his body. Well, this should be a fun night – getting steadily more jealous and possessive as guys hit on his flaming twink of a boyfriend. 

Awesome. 

They’re all drunk within the hour, and Sam quickly finds himself enamored with some sort of pink drink with an umbrella in it. Steve, Bucky, Clint, and Scott spend a lot of time at the bar ordering the shots with the dirtiest names.

“Can I get a Blowjob?” Bucky screams over the music, leaning over the bar and licking his plump lips. He checked his jacket as soon as they walked in the door and the thin tee he’s wearing clings obscenely to him, like a second skin. It rides up when he leans over the bar, revealing the scintillating curve of his lower back, tan skin stretched tight over muscle and bone. 

Steve sort of wants to tell everyone in the club to avert their fucking eyes. 

“Name the time and place, baby,” the bartender says suggestively, grinning slyly and leaning over the bar. Steve slams back his shot (a Screaming Orgasm, which he’s totally giving Bucky later) and gets behind Bucky, fitting himself tight up against him, sliding his hand down Bucky’s chest to press his fingertips to his tattoo. 

“Just put it on my tab,” Steve says, giving the bartender a meaningful look as Bucky practically purrs, pushing back against Steve and reaching up to cup his cheek. 

“Mm, hi,” Bucky says, pressing his forehead against Steve’s jaw. 

“You’re drunk,” Steve laughs, fingertips trailing along the waistband of Bucky’s jeans. It’s not like Steve himself is anywhere near sober, but drunk Bucky is a fun Bucky. A very fun Bucky, if he plays his cards right.

“Am not,” Bucky says, pressing an open mouthed kiss to Steve’s jaw as the bartender sets the shot down, staring openly at them. What a pretty picture they must make. 

“Sloppy drunk,” Steve counters, just as Bucky’s tongue finds the sensitive spot below his ear. 

“Drunk enough to blow you in the bathroom,” Bucky breathes, hot and slow into his ear. Steve’s been half hard all night, desire and possessiveness settling low in his stomach, but he grows harder at Bucky’s words. He rocks his hips into Bucky’s ass, makes him gasp. The bartender only looks away when Scott slams down a five and demands a Red Headed Slut. 

Steve is just about to pull Bucky away from the bar, to find a bathroom or a dark corner, any place that he can get those slick, puffy lips of Bucky’s wrapped around his cock. Then suddenly a heavy weight slams into them from behind, sending Bucky crashing into the bar. He nearly knocks over the shot but he rights himself, grabs it, and knocks it back like a pro even with Steve pressing him into the bar. 

“What the fuck, Garrett?” Steve asks, and is shocked when he turns to find his brother shirtless, covered in a fine sheen of sweat. 

“Dude, this place is fucking amazing!” Garrett’s hips are shaking a little to the music, and Steve’s jaw drops open in horror. “I have not paid for a drink all fucking night. If this is what being gay is like, sign me the fuck up!” 

“What about the part where you have to take it up the ass?” Steve asks, raising one eyebrow. 

“I like that part,” Bucky says absently, snapping his fingers to get the bartender’s attention before pointing at Sam’s pink drink and holding up two fingers. Steve snorts, keeping one hand on his hip before he decides to wander off and make friends. Drunken Bucky is also a friendly Bucky. 

“Dude, if it means I get to be this fucking trashed for free all the time, I will seriously consider it,” Garrett says, and Steve wrinkles his nose. A cute guy comes up to the bar behind Steve, and Garrett winks. “Watch this.”

Steve and Bucky turn to watch Garrett plant himself at the guy’s side, leaning in and whispering in his ear. Steve resists the urge to gag.

“They have been playing this game all night,” Bruce says, suddenly at their side. “It’s ridiculous.”

The guy orders Garrett a drink and Garrett winks at him as he takes a sip. Just as the guy opens his mouth to speak, Ben comes up to them, also shirtless, and throws his arms around Garrett. 

“Baby!” Ben shrieks, and Bucky nearly chokes on his fruity pink drink. Steve slaps him on the back. “Come dance with me!” Garrett shrugs apologetically and leaves with Ben, leaving the guy alone and frustrated. 

“All night they’ve been running interference on each other,” Bruce laughs, nursing a beer. “Cockblocking for the greater good.” 

“That was beautiful,” Sam says, and then hiccups. His lips are stained pink from his drink, but Steve doesn’t tell him. 

“Adios, motherfucker!” Bucky screams at the bartender, and then starts laughing. Steve rolls his eyes and puts his hand over Bucky’s mouth. A few moments later, a drink is set down in front of him.

“Holy shit. That’s a drink? I was just saying goodbye!” Bucky grabs the shot and the bartender smirks before heading down the bar. Bucky downs the shot with a wince and slams the glass back down. He turns in Steve’s arms, hands sliding up to tug at the open collar of Steve’s shirt. 

“I wanna dance, baby,” he says, and wrinkles his freckled nose like Ben has forever tainted the endearment. “Dance with me.” 

“You know I can’t dance,” Steve says, smirking at the pleading look in Bucky’s eyes. 

“It’s easy!” Bucky says, grabbing Steve’s hips and pushing him back into the crowd. He flings his arms around Steve’s neck and fits their hips together, rolling them in time with the music. “Just move with me,” Bucky says, tongue flicking out to lick at Steve’s ear. “You’re good at moving with me.” 

Steve growls, grips Bucky’s hips and pulls him even tighter, following Bucky’s lead as he catches Bucky’s lips in a heated kiss. 

A few songs later, they’re not so much dancing as they are grinding against each other and making out. Steve has somehow woven his hand up the back of Bucky’s shirt, pulling it up as he grips the back of Bucky’s neck. He’s attempting to work his other hand down the back of Bucky’s jeans, palm slipping on sweat slick skin, but they’re too tight. He feels dizzy from too much alcohol, too many bodies in one place, so much kissing. 

“Don’t make me break out the hose!” Tony says suddenly, knocking into them. Steve’s teeth snag on Bucky’s bottom lip, biting down before he jerks away. When Steve looks over at him, Tony is eyeing Bucky’s exposed back appreciatively. Steve pulls Bucky’s shirt down, snags his thumb in Bucky’s belt loop. 

Steve loves Tony like a brother, but he doesn’t like the way he looks at Bucky sometimes – eyes all dark and hungry like he forgets Bucky is off limits. It’s still too easy to remember what they looked like all wrapped up together, and irrational or not, sometimes Steve hates Tony a little for ever touching Bucky. 

“Check it out,” Tony says, distracting Steve from his less than friendly thoughts when he gestures over his shoulder. Ben is grinding against some pretty girl, their tongues tangling as the lights glitter on their bare skin. 

“Leave it to Ben to find the straight chick in a gay bar,” Bucky giggles, leaning heavily on Steve. “And fuck her.”

“No, wait for it,” Tony says delightedly. The crowd parts a little and they can see Garrett behind the girl. She’s sandwiched between them, their hands on her slim hips as they both grind against her. 

“Holy shit!” Steve cackles. “How much have they had to drink?” 

“Don’t even ask, son,” Tony replies. “They asked for it, playing all these poor guys for fools. They wanted all the free drinks. Let them reap the benefits.”

Tony laughs loudly and claps Steve on the back before turning away and weaving his way back towards the bar. Steve and Bucky’s eyes stay locked on the train wreck that is their brothers for much longer than necessary.

“I can’t look away,” Bucky says, all quick and panicky. “I can’t look away!” 

Steve chuckles and takes Bucky’s hand. He tangles their fingers together and leads him through the crowd until they find an empty couch near the back wall. Steve falls back onto it, smirking up at Bucky. 

“Let’s make out,” Steve slurs, and Bucky’s eyes light up. He straddles Steve’s lap and sits down, pressing their lips together soft and insistent. Steve is more than aware of all the eyes on him, and he tangles his fingers in Bucky’s sweaty hair, the others tucked possessively in Bucky’s back pocket. 

Sometime later, when Steve’s lips feel bruised from overuse and he’s sure Bucky has marked up every inch of his neck, Tony and Bruce drop down onto the couch on either side of them. 

“Last call, boys!” Bruce announces. “You kids ready to go?” 

“Uh,” Steve says, feeling the hard press of Bucky’s dick against his thigh as he fastens his lips against Steve’s neck when he pulls away to speak. “I think so. If I don’t get Bucky to our room soon I think I’m gonna have to start charging for the show.”

“Let ‘em look,” Tony replies. “You’re a lucky boy.” 

“I know I am,” Steve says slowly, looking over at him for a moment before turning back to Bruce. “Where’s everybody else?” 

“Well, uh, Sam got scared ‘cause some leather daddy kept hitting on him,” Bruce says, smirking. “So he ran off and Scott and Clint went to console him. They’re at the diner up the street.” 

“Ben and Garrett?” He inquires, hissing when Bucky bites down on his collarbone. He won’t stop fucking squirming, leaving Steve hard as nails, drunk as fuck, and stumbling through this conversation.

“Those assholes left with that girl,” Tony says jovially, throwing his head back and laughing. “Looked real cozy, too. Shit. That’ll be fun.” 

Steve chuckles and places his hands on Bucky’s cheeks, pushing him away from his neck. He’s literally afraid to look in a mirror. “Wanna go back to the hotel?” 

“Yes,” Bucky says, nodding eagerly like this is the best idea he’s ever heard. “I wanna go. I wanna suck you so bad.”

“Okay!” Steve says loudly, flushing a little. “Yeah, we’re ready to call it a night.”

“I bet,” Tony says, one eyebrow raised. “I’d be eager to get back, too.” 

Steve’s gaze turns cold. Like he wants to be fucking reminded of Tony and Bucky’s past all the time. He’s about to say something, but Bucky leans forward and kisses his lips softly, mumbles about how much he loves him against his skin, and well, Tony never got that. 

They manage to get out of the club without much incident. Steve’s bar tab ends up being much less than he expected, and the bartender gives him a wink as he gives him his receipt. They grab their coats and head outside. The late night air is a sudden shock to them after spending hours in the sweltering club, and Bucky burrows closer to Steve as they walk towards the diner. 

It’s warm and bright inside, and they find Sam in the corner nursing an ice cream sundae. Clint and Scott sit across from him with coffees, looking like they’re trying their best not to laugh.

“Aw, Sam,” Bucky starts, far too loud for the small diner. “Did the big bad bear scare you?” He sits down next to Sam and wraps his arms around him. Sam looks pained. 

“He said my pretty twink ass would look good in a sling!” Sam shouts, suddenly turning to seek comfort from an abnormally friendly Bucky. 

“Least y’know you’re pretty,” Bucky slurs, petting Sam’s hair. Sam rests his chin on Bucky’s shoulder, looking at the rest of the group with pleading eyes. 

“I just wanna go back to the hotel,” Sam says, sad and dejected. “I want to call Wanda, maybe cry a little.”

“Agreed,” Bruce says. “I flew past happy drunk and I’m now just wanna go to bed drunk. And hey, Tony, at least we don’t have to bunk up tonight. I doubt Ben and Garrett are gonna come round to claim their bed.”

“I get my own bed, too!” Sam squeaks, and Bucky shushes him, still petting his hair. Clint and Scott just roll their eyes and shrug. 

The streets still seem to be bustling when they leave the diner, even at two in the morning. They take two cabs back to the hotel, and the lobby is oddly silent as they walk through it. The loud music seems to have permanently damaged Steve’s eardrums, and he doesn’t talk much in fear of being too loud. 

Their rooms are all adjoining, Tony and Bruce’s sandwiched in the middle. They all murmur sleepy goodnights to each other and duck into their own rooms. Steve had assumed Bucky would pass out as soon as he was in the vicinity of a bed, but he apparently has other ideas, and a promise to make good on. 

“Get naked,” he says before he presses his lips to Steve’s in a wet kiss. Steve was exhausted to the core a second ago, but he suddenly feels as if he’s gotten a second wind. They shuck their clothes in record time and Bucky pushes Steve back onto the bed. He climbs between Steve’s thighs and dips his head, pressing suckling little kisses to Steve’s tattoo. He lets out a soft moan as Bucky laps at the sensitive skin. 

He dips lower to slurp at Steve’s cock, letting out loud, appreciative moans and he hums as he sucks him down. 

Steve takes a second to look at the closed adjoining door between the rooms and wonder if Tony can hear them, if he’s listening. 

But then Bucky proceeds to give him the wettest, filthiest blowjob he’s gotten in his entire fucking life, and he can’t bring himself to care. 

Let him listen all he fucking wants.

  
  



	9. Chapter 9

Bucky wakes to a pounding at their door the next morning, and he tenses before he even opens his eyes, trying to gauge his hangover.

It’s surprisingly not too bad, probably in thanks to the bottles of water he chugged before drinking and the Tylenol Steve forced him to take before he passed out. 

But he still doesn’t feel awesome, and he scrubs at the dried come on his cheek as he rolls out of bed and stumbles to the door. He almost forgets that he’s naked, and he pauses to pull on a pair of black boxer briefs that he’s pretty sure are the ones Steve was wearing last night. 

Steve, unsurprisingly, doesn’t stir even as the pounding gets louder. Bucky gets to the door and wrenches it open, wincing at the light that floods in from the hallway. Tony stands there, wearing a smirk. Bucky leans heavily against the doorframe, unashamed of his near naked state. Tony takes a moment to look him up and down, and yeah, Bucky knows he looks fucking fantastic, all tan and lean. 

“Holy shit,” Tony says, reaching out to poke at Bucky’s tattoo. He slaps his hand away, and doesn’t acknowledge his distinguishing mark.

“Can I fucking help you?” Bucky yawns, rubbing at his eyes with the backs of his hands. 

“We’re all going downstairs for breakfast,” Tony says. “So, regrettably I must tell you to put some clothes on and wake up your boyfriend so you can join us.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky says, waving his hand. “Give us like fifteen minutes.” Tony takes one last look at his body and Bucky rolls his eyes, shutting the door in his face.

They shuffle into the diner in the hotel lobby about twenty minutes later, Steve yawning blearily and looking for all the world like he wants to curl up and die. His neck is littered with hickeys, and it makes Bucky flush with heat to see his marks on Steve’s perfect skin.

Theirs is a haggard looking crew at best. Tony and Bruce look okay, due to their excessive experience in the art of being functioning alcoholics, but Sam is even squintier than usual and Clint has head down on the table, eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. Bucky’s not even sure he’s awake. Scott is rubbing his temples slowly, lips moving silently as if in prayer. Steve drops heavily into a chair and Bucky sends up a silent thank you to the hangover gods, because they’re apparently smiling down upon him today. 

“Morning, boys!” Bucky says cheerily, boastfully, as he drops down next to Steve. He smiles gleefully at their grumbling. 

“Fuck you,” Sam says, squinting over at him. He could also be glaring, but Bucky isn’t sure. “You were so drunk last night you were borderline retarded. How are you not dead and dying like the rest of us?” 

“Just lucky I guess,” Bucky replies, rubbing Steve’s back when he groans. “Just get a really greasy breakfast, Stevie. You’ll feel better.” Steve just nods, yawning as he reaches for his menu. “Anyone heard from Ben and Garrett?”

“Yeah,” Tony says, smirking. “Ben sent me a text saying they’d meet us here.” 

The waitress comes by to take their order then, and Steve orders the greasiest thing on the menu. Scott orders for Clint, which proves Bucky’s theory that he’s asleep at the table. 

Ben and Garrett come in a few minutes later in the same clothes they wore last night, looking completely disheveled. They walk stiffly, feet apart, and they share a nervous little look with each other when they see that the only two seats left at the table are together. They sit down, each shuffling sideways a little bit.

“Rough night?” Bucky asks, trying to bite down on his grin. Ben jumps a little and starts tearing up a napkin. 

“Uneventful,” Ben says loudly, eyes wide. “Nothing really to talk about.”

“We don’t need to talk about it,” Garrett adds quickly, and the two share a startled look before turning away from each other again.

“Oh, this is delightful,” Steve says quietly, leaning over so only Bucky can hear. Bucky just nods, grinning wildly. 

Silence falls over the table for a few minutes, wherein everyone watches Ben and Garrett with rapt fascination and Ben and Garrett look anywhere but at each other. That is, until they both reach for the orange juice carafe in the middle of the table at the same moment and their hands brush slightly.

“Don’t touch me!” Ben shrieks and Garrett blinks rapidly. 

“Oh come on, guys,” Bucky says, grinning. “Was it really that bad?”

“What was bad?” Ben demands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Dude,” Steve says, cutting him a look. “Everyone at this table knows the two of you engaged in a devil’s threeway last night.”

“Shut your mouth, assfuck!” Garrett shrieks, and Sam leans over towards Steve.

“What’s a devil’s threeway?” He asks, and Steve throws up his hand in the devil horn’s signal, pinky and index finger extended. 

“Two dudes,” he stage whispers, and Sam turns to gape and Ben and Garrett. Ben lets his head fall to the table with a bang.

“Well, don’t keep us in suspense,” Clint says, and Bucky starts a little because he didn’t even realize Clint had woken up and joined the conversation. “Did you two fuck or not?” 

“No!” Ben and Garrett shout in unison, and they share a helpless glance with each other. 

“It was just weird,” Ben says, looking panicky. “I don’t want to talk about it. Where’s the fucking waitress?”

“It was horrible,” Garrett says suddenly, eyes glazed over like he’s in a daze. He’s silent for a moment, and then he shudders comically. Ben’s lower lip trembles.

“Bucky got a tattoo,” Tony says out of the blue, as if trying to distract them. Ben’s eyes snap to Bucky in an instant.

“Tony!” Bucky shrieks, glaring at him. 

“You what?” Ben asks, eyebrow raised in that smug, superior way that makes Bucky feel about five years old. “When? And more importantly, where?” 

“Show ‘em,” Tony says, and Bucky glares daggers at him. He knows it’s useless to object, so he stands up dejectedly. He’s wearing track pants and a tee shirt, and he hooks his thumb in the waistband of the pants to pull them down a little as he lifts the shirt. Ben and Garrett take in the tattoo while Steve sniggers at his side. 

“At least it’s not a tramp stamp,” Ben says, pouring some orange juice. 

“Still pretty gay,” Garrett says, taking the carafe from Ben. They do seem momentarily distracted from their own unfortunate drunken antics, but knowing this group, they won’t be able to forget it for long.

“Speaking of pretty fucking gay,” Clint butts in, looking at Garrett over the top of his sunglasses. “What’s Ben’s dick like? Did you touch it? Lick it a little?” 

“Oh shit, sick burn!” Steve laughs, reaching over to high five Clint. 

“I will cut your head off and throw it in the ocean, Clint, I swear to fucking god,” Garrett grits out through clenched teeth. 

“Anyway,” Ben says, obviously trying to change the subject again. “It’s cute, Buck. Real cute.”

“Adorable,” Steve says, biting his lip in a useless effort to hide his grin. 

“Oh no,” Bucky says, tugging on his arm. “You are not throwing me under the bus. Steve got one, too. They were his idea.”

“This I gotta see,” Garrett says, grinning. Steve rolls his eyes and stands up, mirroring Bucky’s pose until his matching tattoo is also visible.

“Holy shit. That’s fucking adorable,” Clint crows, and Sam raises an eyebrow at the matching lines of stars. Steve hip checks Bucky, just to show how the stars are meant to travel from one body to the other before he drops his shirt and sits back down. 

“You make me sick,” Sam says, face sour. “Stop it.” 

“Don’t be jealous of our love,” Steve says, and leans over to give Bucky a kiss that tastes like orange juice. 

Breakfast is fairly uneventful after that, and the gang heads upstairs to pack. Steve and Bucky have their room for another night, and they walk the guys downstairs to say goodbye.

“Make this quick,” Bucky says, twirling a finger in the air. “We’ve got to be on a boat to Alcatraz in two hours and I still have to shower the dance club and sex off of me.”

“Whatever,” Ben says, pulling Bucky into a one armed hug. “Drive safe, you fucking homo.”

“You don’t get to call me a homo now that you know what Garrett’s dick tastes like,” Bucky retorts, ducking under Ben’s swinging arm.

“I do not know what Garrett’s dick tastes like, you little shit!” Ben shrieks. 

“It tastes like candy, if you’re curious,” Garrett says, ruffling Steve’s hair and slinging an arm around Ben’s shoulders. Ben turns his head slowly and gives Garrett a scandalized look. “Get in the van, honey,” Garrett says, and presses a quick kiss to Ben’s temple.

“Oh, so you and I are joking about this already, huh?” Ben says to Garrett, tone flat and sarcastic. “Great, I’m glad to hear it.” They both get in the van, and Steve and Bucky roll their eyes. “No, you sit over there,” Ben says loudly, voice filtering outside. “Sit away from me.”

“You guys hurry up and come home, okay?” Sam says, stepping in front of them. “Hanging out with these guys is fucking weird. I never know if they genuinely like me or if they just keep me around to make fun of me.”

“And the distinction is clear with us?” Bucky asks with a pleasant smile. Sam rolls his eyes and punches him in the shoulder. “Shut up, bitch. You love me. Well, I hope you two and your matching tattoos have fun in the city by the gay.”

With that, he gets in the van. Clint and Scott just give them mock salutes before climbing in, and Bruce winks at them before getting in the driver’s seat. 

“Try not to rack too much shit up on my bill,” Tony says, pulling Steve into a hug. He does the same to Bucky, going so far as to press a quick kiss to Bucky’s temple. Bucky pushes him away and wipes the side of his face. 

“Later,” Bucky says, and Steve smoothly pulls Bucky up against his body.

“Try to make sure our brothers don’t touch each other inappropriately on the way home,” Steve says, grinning cheekily. 

“I heard that, you prick!” Ben yells, and the sound is drowned out by Garrett’s booming laugh.

They make it to the pier where they are supposed to board the ferry to Alcatraz with thirty minutes to spare, even after stopping for coffee. There is a slight chill in the air, because even though it’s the end of July, San Francisco seems to have some sort of weather glitch, because it’ll be sweltering in some places and freezing in others.

Steve is leaning against a guardrail, head tipped back so the sun hits his neck. Bucky shuffles closer, turning to stand directly in front of Steve, leaning back against him as he seeks warmth. Steve’s camera digs into Bucky’s back and Steve removes the strap from around his neck, placing it over Bucky’s instead and tugging Bucky closer by his hips. 

Bucky sighs happily and relaxes, letting Steve support all his weight. Steve hooks his thumbs in the front pockets of Bucky’s jeans. All the excitement is catching up with them, and Bucky feels exhausted but relaxed – soft and content, all pressed up against Steve

“It’s the last day of our trip,” Bucky says wistfully. “Going home tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, resting his chin on Bucky’s shoulder. “But that’s okay, because the best part of it is coming home with me.”

“What’s that, your shot glass collection?” Bucky asks playfully, and Steve nips his ear. 

“No, idiot. It’s you.”

Bucky smiles at that, turning his head to catch Steve’s lips in a soft kiss as they wait for the ferry.

They manage to see pretty much all the main tourist spots in one day, and by the time they stagger back into their room late that night they’re exhausted and Bucky is a little sunburned, but they’re happy.

Bucky showers and Steve orders champagne and strawberries from room service on Tony’s tab, just because he can. 

Tired as they are, they still share the fruit and drink the champagne. They make love, slow and face to face, Steve rocking into Bucky with deep, steady thrusts. He comes before Bucky, the sound he makes muffled against Bucky’s sweat slick skin. 

He pulls out and flips them over, kisses Bucky and coaxes him inside of him, relishing in the burn of Bucky filling him up. The feeling is so new, so fucking powerful, and he watches Bucky’s face as he comes. He’s so gorgeous, eyes bright green and skin flushed pink. 

They fall asleep tangled together under soft hotel sheets, Bucky’s head tucked under Steve’s chin.

Steve takes a deep breath, catalogues the moment. 

He’s never been more in love.

Chapter 9

They leave late the next morning, just before check out time.

They’re taking the short route home, cutting across to Interstate 5 and riding it all the way down to LA. Steve takes over driving after Bucky navigates them out of the city, afraid to sip his coffee unless they’re at a red light. 

They make a lot of unnecessary stops, eager to get home but unwilling to let the trip end. 

Around sunset, Bucky is dozing in the passenger seat as Steve drives, cutting swathes through the rolling golden hills and vast nothingness that makes up most of the state. The radio is low, and Bucky listens when Steve starts to talk. 

“Does it ever surprise you how quickly we grew up?” Steve asks thoughtfully, and Bucky opens his eyes, shifts slightly so he can see Steve’s face. His hair is windblown and he’s got stubble on his chin. He’s silhouetted by the sunset, pinks and yellows highlighting his tan skin. 

“What?” Bucky asks softly, momentarily distracted.

“It’s just,” Steve sighs, obviously trying to find the words. “It seems like yesterday we were playing in sandboxes and eating dirt, and now look at us. I mean, I’m driving. I have a driver’s license and bills and responsibilities. I’m a grown up. When did that happen?”

“When you weren’t looking,” Bucky responds quietly, eyes drooping sleepily as the corners of his lips turn upwards. 

“Tell me about it,” Steve replies. “And next month we’re going to leave home and be on our own, going to college. And I’m excited. But it’s sort of sad, you know? To leave it all behind.” 

“Yeah,” Bucky says softly. “I know what you mean. It’s scary sometimes, growing up. But you’ve got me to protect you.” He reaches over to take Steve’s hand from where it had been resting on the center console. He slots their fingers together and squeezes, smiling over at him.

“Like I’d ever outgrow you,” Steve says, swiping his thumb back and forth across the back of Bucky’s hand until he falls asleep in the passenger seat.

Bucky takes over driving again once they near LA while Steve takes his turn to doze. It’s late by the time they get home, stretching what should have been an eight hour drive to twelve with all their pit stops.

Bucky pulls up to Steve’s house, comfortable and familiar in the moonlight. Steve is asleep, face smashed against the leather seat and his hand tangled with Bucky’s. He has to let go to put the car in park and turn off the ignition. 

“Steve,” he whispers, reaching over to push Steve’s hair off of his forehead. “Wake up. We’re home.”

Steve stirs, sitting up and stretching until his back pops. He nods sleepily and gets out of the car, stumbling a little on numb legs. Bucky yawns and gets out as well, coming around the front to stand at Steve’s side. 

“You’re staying here?” Steve asks, tilting his head to the side. Bucky furrows his brow, sleepy and puzzled.

“Well, yeah,” Bucky replies. “Did you not want me to?” 

“Of course I do,” Steve says. “Just wondering how you’re not sick of me yet.” 

“That’s a good question.” Bucky smirks and takes Steve’s hand, threading their fingers together as they trudge sleepily up the walkway to Steve’s house.

Because when it really comes down to it, it doesn’t really matter where they are – his house or Steve’s, a crappy hotel or a shiny new car. 

As long as he is with Steve, he’s home.

  
  



End file.
